


A favor

by purple_ramblings



Series: A favored journey [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 2003, Agoraphobia, Angst, Anxiety, Depression, F/M, Five Years Post War, Happy Ending, Lucius is in Azkaban and stays there, Marriage of Convenience, Mutual Support, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Therapy, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, aftereffects of imprisonment, aftereffects of war, because this qualifies as angst as I've recently learned..., dubious relationship beginning, learning to live, learning to love, mention of euthanasia, mention of torture/use of harmful dark magic, mutual marriage of convenience, strangers to spouses to lovers, war victims
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-02-07 06:48:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 87,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21453766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_ramblings/pseuds/purple_ramblings
Summary: “You owe me a favor and I have a proposal to make.”He took the ring out of its box, grasped her left hand and slid it onto her trembling third finger.A Draco/OFC story set five years after the war.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s)
Series: A favored journey [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1873504
Comments: 173
Kudos: 146
Collections: Draco, HarryPotter14





	1. An apology (Prologue)

~*~*~*~

“I’m sorry.”

She spoke quietly, cradling the bundle in her arms close to her body. She sounded it too, apologetic and guilty.

He had only just been allowed into the room. After the fact, when everything was done and over. After they had cleaned her up and changed the sheets. After nothing in the room showed evidence of the screams and cries he had been forced to endure from the hall, forbidden from entering his own wife’s suite. After the midwife and the healer had joined him in the hall to congratulate him on the birth of his first child.

After his wife had apologized about giving birth to his first child.

“Are you well?” he asked slowly, nearing the bed where she was propped up against the pillows and holding said child.

She gave the smallest of nods.

He took another few steps closer, knees now bumping the end of the elaborate bed frame.

“Is… Is the child well?” All while he had been forced to listen to every whimper and every scream, he had pleaded with every deity and positive force he was aware of to spare her life and the child’s life. If he had had to choose, he wouldn’t have known how to. But in this moment he wondered if the choice had been made for him.

“She is well.”

Relief washed over him like a wave and he dared to round the bed to come to her side.

“And I am well also, so all is well,” he summarized, starting to feel better, almost chipper. He had just been made a father.

He reached towards her, to touch her hand or to first caress his daughter, but then he froze. She had jerked away from him, ever so slightly but plenty enough for him to notice.

And then he remembered.

“What are you apologizing for?”

She looked down at their child.

~*~*~*~


	2. A favor and a proposal

~*~*~*~

He appeared suddenly and without warning. From one day to the other he was there. From one day to the other, he was there – every day.

The first time he sat in a corner and she passed by, peripheral vision out to any patrons who might like to summon her with a nod or a wave of their hand. Since he had done neither, her brain caught up to the information her eyes had provided three steps later. When she turned back to the flash of white-blond hair she thought she had seen, he was gone. She brushed it off and continued on with her day.

His family did not hold a monopoly on that shade of hair, she reminded herself, there were plenty others. Just like there were plenty others that made her do a double take, hair colors, body shapes, sounds, quick movements. She had a reputation of being jumpy at work, subtle magic being the only reason why nearly-but-not smashed plates had not cost her her job yet.

Besides, what would he be doing here anyway. So far from home. So far from anything he knew. Then again, what did he know now? A lot had changed since then and at the same time little had changed, or even nothing. No change in the world could craft any reason for him being there though. She bustled on, serving other patrons, pushing it into the corner of her head that was reserved for her spooks.

The next day, she saw a flash of white-blond hair again, from the corner of her eye. This time it took her brain only two steps to catch up and when she looked back, he was still there. Yesterday’s spook slammed itself from the back of her mind to the very front.

Slowly, as if very aware she had spotted him which he probably was, his head turned and their eyes met. The expressionlessness on his face but above all the piercing blankness in his pale eyes was enough for her to turn away abruptly. Squashing down all queasiness and turning of her stomach and smothering all questions swirling her mind, she walked away. Turn in new order, pick up other order, serve next guest. Turn in new order, pick up other order, serve next guest. Turn in new order, pick up other order, serve next guest.

She avoided that area for as long as she could which was surprisingly long. Then, when she had to serve a table close by a while later, the seat was empty.

The third day he appeared towards the end of her shift and she speculated he might try to talk to her afterwards. It was mere speculation because that meant completely hypothetical, completely neutral. It was a guess, a possibility, nothing definite, nothing to expect, nothing to be afraid of. Now if she had assumed, she would have expected something, right? Or if she had suspected, she might have been afraid, right? But she wasn’t. She was speculating but speculation had only hypothetical merit and she was fine with that. She wasn’t scared.

Within the five minutes between her seeing him last and her clocking out, he vanished. The table empty, no one lurking for her at the back door, no one turning up out front when she made her way home.

It had been mere speculation so that was fine. She was fine. Whatever the reason for his presence was, she knew more than anything else that he would not reveal it until he so wished. She also knew that he would not do anything to her. He couldn’t.

A weekend passed before her next day of work. There were a lot of university students on staff, which she wasn’t, a student that was, and so she had most of the shifts that fell in-between those the others could cover around classes. She didn’t mind not working on the weekends but she also didn’t mind picking up shifts when someone canceled. She was flexible.

That Monday she had to be flexible in another way when someone called in sick and she had to serve not only her section but also her ill colleague’s. He appeared just before the lunch crowd in that section and she knew if her supervisor had caught her dawdling out on approaching a customer for as long as she had, she would have been reprimanded. Finally she collected herself to go over and ask his order, nodding to herself a little and straightening up. Then another order from her area was called and she did that first, customers wanted their food fresh and hot, right?

When she then turned to go to his table next, she stopped short. Someone else was sitting there now, a young couple, a man with black hair and a woman with brown hair. Definitely not a man with white-blond hair. They were easy customers, ready with their drinks and food orders when she came to them.

After delivering the ticket, she made to fix their drinks and one step later, she turned back. White-blond hair had now appeared in her peripheral vision somewhere else. Somewhere else as in where her other colleague was serving.

“Some people,” her colleague whispered to her as they passed each other moments later. “White-haired guy over there?” She subtly nodded in his direction. “Saw you were about to go to him but now he’s in my section. Asked him casually if something was wrong with the other table. ‘A draft’, he said. A draft, my arse. The whole place is a draft by that standard. Wanna bet he won’t tip? Them rich snobs never do.”

She said nothing. She hadn’t been aware that she was ‘moving air’.

Her colleague also boasted about the highest tip she’d ever made at the end of their shift.

It went on like that. He would appear just as suddenly and randomly as he would disappear. The only thing that wasn’t random was that he did so every day.

He was always served by someone else, something that had appeared random in the first few days but then revealed itself as anything but. He was never in her section, he never ordered from her, he never settled the bill with her. Twice more he moved in the following days, both tables at the edge of her usual section.

He was there every day but he never made an attempt to speak to her. He never even asked her colleagues questions about her. He was just there, watching her, observing. He wasn’t always staring at her but their eyes met occasionally. He never pretended that he wasn’t watching her and she never pretended that she wasn’t aware, that she didn’t notice him. He was very probably learning things about her that he was going to use for something at a later time, collecting information like the exact borders of her sections, her shift times, the days she worked, the days she didn’t. He was not there arbitrarily, he was not there by chance, he had not shown up to this restaurant in this area without reason. She was the reason.

Eventually others caught on as well. One colleague saw them exchange a glance and made a comment about the handsome but silent and also somewhat aloof man, just a little tease between co-workers. He didn’t appear in that colleague’s section again.

Another asked if she knew him and when she confirmed, that colleague apparently asked him about her. He was also never served by that person again.

It took a surprisingly, or frighteningly, long time until someone started feeling concerned. Whether he was a stalker, she was asked. If they should ask him to leave. If she felt uncomfortable. She couldn’t say. He had never approached her, she didn’t feel uncomfortable or threatened. He was just there. Every day she was working for three weeks, but never when she wasn’t. Maybe that should have concerned her.

After three weeks the manager got involved, taking her aside. A few of her colleagues had brought up concerns about him. They felt uncomfortable on her behalf, was what she read between the lines. She understood that, she got how unsettling it probably looked from the outside. They didn’t know that his mere presence was one of the least unsettling things she had experienced from someone like him. They didn’t know that he couldn’t harm her. But she didn’t know why he was there and she was so very sure that her unsettlement would not come until she knew. Either way, it was the manager who approached him and asked him to leave.

The next day was the first day in three weeks where she didn’t feel his piercing gaze on her as she worked.

She was right about it. Her unsettlement didn’t come until later. Until she went home a few days after he’d last been at work, and felt watched, again.

It was different this time. This wasn’t contained to her place of work with him appearing and disappearing during her shift. This was after her shift, this was on the way home. This was different. The unsettlement came.

She couldn’t be sure it was him though. He didn’t show himself and made sure never to be seen as she turned at random intervals and used car windows to see what was going on behind her without having to turn. He was good at this, always out of view, yet always maintaining his presence. Of course he also had magic at his disposal which made checking in the car windows a rather silly notion.

She couldn’t be entirely sure it was him, the first time, but she made the quick decision to change her route immediately. It added ten minutes to her usual way but it also meant that she was accessing her home through the backyard of a house one street over. It also meant there were more corners for her to catch him, though she never did. Again, he probably knew a vast collection of spells and charms to aid him in the scouting of his target. Those kinds of magic wouldn’t be restricted for him, would they.

It took her three days to be done with it. Three days changing her route, making it longer every time, making her try to think of shortcuts and alleyways. Three days for her to realize that it didn’t matter which way she took because he wasn’t stupid and her house only had two entrances. No matter the circles she made him follow her through, she was always going to end up at one door or the other.

It also occurred to her that even if she hadn’t noticed or sensed him before that was no reason to believe that he hadn’t followed her home before. He probably had. He probably already knew where she lived. He probably knew when she’d started changing her route. He probably had _let_ her notice him.

Whatever it was he wanted from her, she needed to know. Not because she needed to know the contents of whatever it was that he wanted, she was sure she would not care for whatever that was. But he needed to spit it out so he would stop following her. It was beginning to affect her sleep and her work and she was not going back to looking over her shoulder and walking around in a bubble of protective charms. She was not. Whatever he was doing, she was going to draw it out of him.

It took her two more days to devise a plan to finally catch him. Or rather, it took her two days to allow her mind to accept what she had known before – which was that whatever she did, the only way she would be able to confront him was if he let himself be confronted by her. They had both kept up the pretenses, it was time to drop them.

It probably took him less than a moment to figure it out because the only reason he followed her into the shadowy alleyway she had blatantly walked into was that he was letting her bait him. As she shoved him into the wall, the only reason she was pushing the tip of her wand under his chin was that he was allowing her. The only reason why he didn’t draw his own wand was because he didn’t to. The only reason why he made no move to defend himself was because he wanted it that way.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t hex the life out of you, Malfoy,” she snarled at him all while she was aware that he wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t reveal anything he didn’t want to reveal. He hadn’t spent four weeks tracking her just to give himself up at the first moment of confrontation.

He didn’t pretend to be alarmed, or surprised. He was calm, calculated, not a hair out of place. A man who had his target exactly where he wanted it. He had her exactly where he wanted her. No one like him was going to give up such an advantage just like that.

No, she was certain that his motive was something he was planning to conceal for as long as he pleased. Whatever came out of his mouth next would be a rouse, a lie, a cover-up, he wouldn’t reveal even an ounce of the truth. He might even say nothing at all.

But he did.

“Daisy.”

One word. Two syllables. Five letters. Two vowels, three consonants. Delta-Alfa-India-Sierra-Yankee.

One word was enough to make her lower her wand and the forearm she had across his throat.

It wasn’t just a word. He was not speaking of a flower. It was a name.

No one had mentioned the name to her in years. No one in this world even knew the name. She hadn’t spoken the name in too long.

She had thought it. She thought of Daisy every day. She thought of her little sister, of her laugh, of her bright eyes. Tried to remember all the good parts, the happy memories. Reminded herself of a life before, a life that had been worth living. She never thought _it_. Never that.

He had no right to say her name. He had no right to come to her place of work. He had no right to follow her. He had no right to approach her. But he did. He knew he had every right to. And she knew it too.

“You owe me a favor and I have a proposal to make,” he said.

He spoke easily, casually, like he was speaking of trivial things with no weight or consequence. Like he wasn’t speaking of a favor that was very much not just a favor but a life-debt. Like he hadn’t just tipped the scales in his favor without her having a chance to level the field. He knew all that, he knew it all too well. It was the reason why he had come at all. He never would have if he hadn’t had that. If he hadn’t had her, exactly where he wanted her.

“What do you want?” she asked belatedly, after several moments had passed.

She felt tired suddenly, a different kind of tired than from the work she did. This wasn’t the kind of tired that sleep and rest and food could fix. This kind of tired settled into her bones, was in her bones. This kind of tired made her feel like she could just lie down and wait until time and weather withered her out of existence. This kind of tired never went away.

He eyed her for a moment, standing in front of him with all the fight drained out of her, her wand limply at her side, resignation in her eyes. This had never been a fight in the first place. She had never stood a chance even with her wand at his jugular. The scales had always been tipped in his favor before she had even been aware.

“I’m going to take something out of my left inside jacket pocket,” he announced and waited until she met his eyes before he moved.

All of a sudden she couldn’t muster up the energy to care if he was going to curse her in a shadowy alleyway or what it was what he wanted from her. She didn’t care to remind herself that he was on lifelong probation and that he couldn’t curse her even if he wanted to. She didn’t care that she might very well just walk away without him able to do anything about it. She didn’t have the energy to care that the only reason she owed him a favor was because she had morals.

He was Draco Malfoy and she owed him a favor. It didn’t matter what he wanted, it was already his.

Slowly and precisely he reached into his jacket and it was then that she took note of how he was dressed. A decidedly non-wizarding suit in a decidedly less than black shade of gray. Now that she considered it, he had not worn black on even one day that she’d seen him. Admittedly, she had also not seen him wear an actual color in the whole time. The absence of wizarding robes and the absence of black did not mean an absence of quality though. Anyone with even a fraction of eye sight on them would be able to tell that this man was rich.

What came out of his jacket pocket was small and vaguely box-y but before she had time to connect the shape and the size, he had snapped the box open and revealed the contents. Content, actually, it was just one thing, one item. One she could not take her eyes off.

“As I said, I have a proposal to make,” he repeated, holding the jewelry box so she had prime view of the ring inside it.

“It’s new,” he explained as though that was a relevant question in that moment.

“Well, not new in the sense of recently crafted,” he allowed with a flash of haughty amusement.

“It _is_ antique but it is _not_ a family heirloom, on neither side.” Another irrelevant revelation.

“2.47 carat, cushion-cut diamond at the center, surrounded by ten smaller diamonds, also cushion-cut, for a total of 6.09 carats. Set in 18 carat yellow gold. Currently a size five and one quarter but we can get it resized if it doesn’t fit.” He shot a quick glance at her left hand.

We.

We can get it resized.

A favor to ask.

A proposal to make.

A six carat diamond ring.

Her mind swam.

“I was thinking you might enjoy the _floral_ design,” he tacked on and her eyes snapped to his again. Floral design. The giant, colorless gemstone surrounded by the other smaller, colorless gemstones formed a blossom shape.

Her sister’s name was Daisy and Daisy was the reason she owed him a favor. A floral design.

She glared at him.

“Ruth,” he said and she flinched. She honest to God flinched. She hadn’t heard that name in… a long time. He had never called her by it before. No one in this world used it. She went by her second name here, a name he was probably more than aware of. He had to have heard her colleagues call her it numerous times.

“I want a wife and an heir.”

She stared at him.

“I _need_ a wife and an heir.”

She stared at him.

“I want you.”

She stared at him.

“I want you to be my wife.”

She broke out of her freeze and let out a snort then turned on her heels. This was ridiculous, absolutely insane and she was not going to listen to his delusions for a moment longer. He had spent four weeks following her for that? What a waste of time and nerves. How absurd.

“I will take care of her.” He did not call after her. He spoke just loudly enough for her to hear it as she walked away.

She froze at the corner of the house that made the alleyway.

“I’ll take care of her. Indefinitely.” He sounded closer then.

She swallowed and then, hating herself for it, she turned around.

“I’ll make it part of the agreement. The best care possible for as long as she… lives.” He met her eyes and it could only be deception how open his gaze was, how honest his expression seemed. He was him after all.

She stared at him.

“I need a wife and an heir,” he repeated, coming to her with just a few more steps. In his hand was still the open ring box with that damned ring. “You owe me a favor and I have a proposal to make.” He took the ring out of its box, grasped her left hand and slid it onto her trembling third finger.

She let him.

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The model for the ring can be found [here](https://www.langantiques.com/vintage-engagement-rings/vintage-2-47-carat-antique-cushion-cut-diamond-cluster-ring-gia-j-vs1.html)


	3. Twelve years indefinitely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized as decided to post the next chapter today, that I didn't write an introductionary author's note for the ones posted first.  
  
After not posting any of my writing for a few years, putting something up again was just as exciting as it was intimidating. Thank you to everyone who checked in to see if this story is their cup of tea, to the people who decided it was and subscribed, and welcome to anyone who might drop in now or at a future date!  
I hope to update somewhat regularly - at the moment I am working on chapter 6 (not counting the prologue which is "chapter 0"). I guess we will find out together who many chapters this story will span, as I don't have a clue yet aside from the key points of the plot in my head.  
Two things I would also like to mention are:  
\- I am not a native speaker of English and so various styles of English may intermix in my writing, in vocabulary as well as spelling and usage. The Harry Potter world calls for more British based English but I first learned American spelling so we'll see how that goes.  
\- Chapters will have content warnings to the best of my ability, but please never hesitate to ask me to add an aspect and/or tag something. Chapter summaries are also available in the End Notes or by request.
> 
> Now I will send you off to the second chapter and would be so happy to hear your thoughts afterwards :)

~*~*~*~

Diamonds were pretty. They sparkled beautifully when you moved them in the light and if you could get it just right, they would reward you with a little rainbow prism. There were six carats of diamonds on this ring and it sparkled and it threw prisms like nothing else she had ever seen. Like nothing else she had ever owned.

Instead of feeling like she owned the ring, Ruth felt more like _she_ was now owned by Malfoy. She was now a pawn in his game, to be used at his disposal. She didn’t know what the game was and what he had revealed so far about it made no sense to her. He wanted, no, _needed_ a wife and an heir, and he had made her accept his proposal by cashing in on a ‘favor’ she owed him. Those two things did not go together. Her as the mother of the Malfoy heir made no sense. Him cashing in on a debt made a world of sense, especially in his situation, but using that to make _her_ marry him? She alternated between doubting his sanity and being horrified at the endless possibilities of what his plan could be.

She knew that by now she was nothing special. Years before things had been promising but they no longer were. Once upon a time she had had ambitions and goals, but they had perished with one spell leaving a wand. Now she was a waitress in London, the non-magical part, and that was it.

It was clear that Malfoy still had ambitions and goals. Not even four years in Azkaban had rid him of them, that much was obvious. He had a goal in mind, maybe even several intertwined ones, and somehow she was to be a part of it. But what part? What part could she play in his plan as his wife and the mother of his heir?

It wasn’t that she doubted her worth. She didn’t. She deserved a good man and if she couldn’t find one, she wouldn’t have one, simple as that. She hadn’t found one yet so she had none. She had learned to like herself again but there was no denying that the war had left its traces. The changes it had brought with it made her home her base, the other places she went few and her life simple. With the arrival of one white-blond Malfoy, nothing was simple anymore.

After such a long time since the last time, she felt guilty calling off work the next day but she knew nothing good would come of it if she went. A night stuck in her head with little sleep and many shadows left her with little energy, barely enough for tea and a leftover scone to allow her body at least some fuel for the day. Not that there was much fuel needed for a day spent lying about, listening to books she spelled to read themselves to her.

The knock that disrupted the vague balance she had established by listening to a comforting tale was not very loud but precise and firm. And she already knew it was coming because that was what wards were for, were they not? She stopped the book and somehow summoned the energy to go and answer the door. It revealed exactly what she thought it would.

“Your colleague said you called in sick.” There was no greeting, no pleasantries before his statement and she gave him a tired look.

“My colleague didn’t tell you anything,” she replied simply and knew it was the truth. No one at work would have told him a damn thing after the manager had asked him to leave. They had a list of names and descriptions of people who were no longer welcome. The name was bogus but the description distinctively him.

He didn’t falter for even a moment. “I may have overheard,” he allowed though and even that was a concession he had no obligation to make.

“I called in sick,” she confirmed finally. “Fully aware that as soon as you realized I was not coming in, you would come here. I am alive and well, simply feeling a little under the weather. No reason for concern.” As if that would have ever gotten rid of him.

“You are not well,” he disagreed quite firmly, giving her a once over. If he expected her to feel shame for still wearing her rumpled pajamas and her unkempt hair, then he could wait for a very long time. Food came before changing clothes. “You have not slept,” he noted, in a softer tone almost colored by concern. That in itself was concerning enough.

“Good morning, Mrs. Tate,” Ruth called out over his shoulder in a painfully different, cheery voice. “Come in.” She opened the door wider, choosing letting him into her home over feeding her nosy neighbor’s rumor mill. For that it was probably already too late, a serious looking man dressed very formally making an appearance on a day where she no doubt should have been at work would be the soil to receive many crops of speculations and suspicions. No doubt there would be well placed questions as soon as Ruth set foot out of her flat again.

Her home was small, a flat made up of one room, a studio. The entrance door opened right into the main part of the room, the focal point shared by a single bed and a small table with two chairs. Hidden behind the door was the wardrobe, snugly fit into the gap formed by the cubicle housing the toilet and shower which took up the majority of the left hand wall. Around a short corner to the right was another small space where the kitchenette rounded out her accommodation. Draco Malfoy may have been brought up with impeccable manners but not even he could school his features into his indifferent blank slate quickly enough to completely conceal his surprise, some may have said shock mixed with consternation.

“A most humble of abodes,” she introduced not without self-deprecation. No doubt the space of this home was a mere closet to him, if even that.

He was either too polite or too speechless to reply anything which suited her just fine.

“Tea?” She went over to the kitchenette and put the kettle on, leaving him to stand in the middle of her room, looking very much out of place. At least the mess was minimal today.

Only a moment later he was no longer standing in the middle of the room, he was right by her and grabbing her hand. Her left hand. Her ringless left hand.

“You’re not wearing it,” he stated, yet this statement lacked the confidence and self-assurance of his earlier one. Instead, he sounded vaguely resigned.

She shook her hand out of his grasp and retrieved two clean cups from the cupboard above the sink. “Self-preservation may not be a characteristic usually associated with my house but I can assure you, it is a skill one can learn even if they are not a Slytherin.” She turned around and looked at him.

He looked like he couldn’t decide whether to respond or to leave.

“I have called in a favor of my own and sent the ring for inspection,” she explained with a sigh. In short – she didn’t trust him.

Now, however, he didn’t seem surprised, he almost seemed pleased even. “Very well,” he allowed. “To whom, might I ask?”

She eyed him for a moment and he would never admit it but her poker face was also very good. “Bill Weasley,” she answered eventually and turned back to put tea bags into the cups, filling them with the heated water afterwards.

“A wise choice, he is highly skilled,” he voiced his approval and shocked a laugh of sorts out of her.

“Did you just compliment a Weasley?” she questioned, spinning around again. His thin lipped expression sobered her immediately.

“Mister Weasley has been leading a project at Malfoy Manor in preparation to secure it as a marital residence. Previous efforts had been made by the Ministry, however I found it necessary to ascertain that the manor would be welcoming towards any future residents.”

She blinked at him while she unpacked that.

“So you’re actually serious,” she concluded. Welcoming to any future residents… That was her. Bill Weasley was not only checking over her engagement ring, he was also making sure that Malfoy Manor would not violently reject his future, decidedly non-pureblooded wife. She felt a little faint at the thought of living there, gladly seeking balance against the counter behind her, knocking over one of the cups accidently. The hot liquid flooded the counter space, sloshing over her hand and flowing down her back as well. With a pained cry she jumped forward but the damage was done.

“Ow, fuck!” she cried out, torn between cradling her burning hand and getting the wet fabric of her clothing off. The pain was acute and sharp, enough to bring her from one dazed state to another. “Ahhh.”

“Hold still,” he commanded, strong hands on her shoulders and then her reflexes were faster than conscious thought, stronger than her pain, her natural and learned sense of self-defense making her injured hand slap the wand out his grasp, her other giving him a hard shove that had him stumbling backwards. They both froze where they were.

“Do not point your wand at me!” she snarled at him, wordlessly summoning the item from the floor before he could.

“I was going to heal you,” he explained almost defensively, eyes wandering between her face and his wand in her hand. “I couldn’t perform anything that would harm anyone,” he added after a moment. “Restricted and monitored wand use for five years.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “Five years in Azkaban,” she couldn’t see him flinch at the name with her eyes shut, “five years restricted and monitored wand use, and lifetime probation.”

“Such is the sentence as decided by the Wizengamot,” he confirmed and some of the strength was back to his voice, and to his stance when she opened her eyes to look at him.

“I didn’t testify,” she told him and she didn’t know if it was a confession, she didn’t know if she felt guilty.

“I know.” He met her searching gaze but nothing in his eyes or his expression said anything about the fact that they both knew she could have been a witness for the defense, for his defense. She hadn’t been. “Let me heal you.”

The throbbing in her scalded body parts returned with a vengeance and she nearly dropped the wand again as she held it out to him with her right. He took it and stepped closer, waving the wand over her hand, murmuring softly. The throbbing stopped and she could see her skin return to normal. She turned on her own accord then and hissed when he tried to peel away the fabric of her pajama to assess the damage.

“The skin is stuck,” he told her and she winced. “Hold still.” She did while he murmured some more and then when he moved the fabric again, there was no pain. “It’s done.” He stepped away from her and she couldn’t help but run a hand over the area, feeling no pain, not even a tingle at the touch.

“Thank you.”

He nodded curtly.  
  


It was all so absurd, Ruth thought when she turned back to prepare tea all over again. One had been spilled, the other had steeped too long. She tossed the remains of both and set fresh water to boil.

The whole thing was preposterous, from start to finish. There was not one aspect of it that made sense to her, even as he was standing in the middle of her tiny studio flat, casually inspecting what had to be the most foreign of abodes he had ever stepped foot in. There was not a single magical item to be seen anywhere.

“How do you take your tea?” she heard herself ask and cast a look over her shoulder. He was a picture of perfect innocence but her bed was now made and the laundry in the basket in neatly folded piles.

“Splash of milk, thank you,” he answered politely.

She hit pause on the kitchen timer she used to make her tea a second before it would have gone off but she had no doubt that he was aware that she timed her tea to four and a half minutes. Suddenly she heard the snapping of fingers and while she turned around there was a soft plopping sound, and suddenly there wasn’t just a man, _her_ _fiancé_, in the room but also a tiny house-elf.

“Neesy, this is Miss Norrington. She accepted my proposal yesterday,” he explained to the elf who had been critically observing its surroundings and was now staring up at Ruth with a new light shining in its eyes.

“Miss is to bes Neesy’s new mistress!” the elf declared with a surprising amount of delight that made Ruth blink. No one had showed that much joy about her or towards her in a long time.

“That she is,” he confirmed with a curt nod. “She prefers her tea to steep for four and a half minutes precisely.”

Ruth blinked again, baffled that he apparently found it necessary to pass on such information directly.

“Yes, Master, Neesy will bes making the teas for Mistress!”

“I’ve made tea!” Ruth all but shouted before the elf could pop away again. The elf’s little shoulders drooped as its new mistress gave a wide-eyed look to its actual master.

“Miss Norrington has already taken care of tea but we were wondering if you could provide us with some nibbles to go along with it,” he spoke to the dejected elf who instantly brightened.

“Of course, Master!” it promised immediately. “What does Mistress like?” it asked her then, eager as house-elves were to please their masters only that Ruth hadn’t seen a house-elf in years and she certainly had never been any elf’s ‘mistress’.

“Uh, shortbread?” she offered weakly and the house-elf popped away with a decisive nod.  
  


“You couldn’t think of anything better? Shortbread is only the most basic of biscuits known to wizardkind,” he commented with something that was almost amusement but she couldn’t be sure because while his voice sounded vaguely amused, his face changed not even a fraction.

“Shortbread is perfectly satisfactory,” she replied flatly and brought their cups over to the tiny table that even despite its small size seemed nearly out of place in the room. It certainly proved to be too small to hold their cups and the vast array of shortbread and other biscuits that Neesy provided them with moments later. The blink of an eye later Neesy had taken care of it though, simply enlarging the table, and standing by, watching Ruth eagerly.

“Try a biscuit,” he whispered at her so she chose one and took a nibble. She could now see that Neesy was eagerly awaiting her response.

“Positively delicious,” she found and couldn’t help but feel the corners over her mouth tug at how pleased Neesy seemed with that.

“If Mistress is likings anything else, let Neesy knows and Neesy brings anything!” the elf promised cheerfully.

“Thank you, Neesy,” Ruth said and looked up in surprise because he had spoken at the same time as her, the exact same words.

“We will call you when we need you again,” he dismissed the elf and it popped away. “She will come if you call her now that she knows you’re my intended.”

Ruth stared at the spot the elf had been standing a moment ago. “You’re actually serious,” she repeated her earlier realization.

“As was confirmed earlier, I actually am,” he replied indulgently. “Although it is rather unfitting to breach such subjects over tea and biscuits, maybe this will help.” He pulled some parchment from the briefcase she hadn’t taken much note of before. “Naturally, it is only a first draft though I hope to have covered most of the essential aspects. There are some points which I find non-negotiable but I suppose anything could be discussed.”

She put down her biscuit on the plate Neesy had provided, fine porcelain with a subtle but intricate pattern along the edges, and wiped her hand on the side of her… She was still in her pajamas, she realized just then. Draco Malfoy was in her flat, her fiancé since the day before, he had introduced her to a house-elf that apparently was to serve her as well now and she was still in her pajamas.

“And what aspects,” she had to clear her throat after reading the caption, Contract of Premarital Agreement. “What aspects do you find non-negotiable?”

“As the last in line for both the Malfoy family as well as the House of Black, I need an heir,” he repeated last night’s condition. “I would prefer for the child to grow up with both parents present so you would be required to reside in the same place as the child and I until they are old enough to attend wizarding school.”

That was… She hadn’t really considered how long this was all supposed to go. As soon as she had realized he was serious about his proposal, she had kind of resigned to the fact that it would be the rest of her life as his wife. But wizarding school age meant that, depending on how quickly she would become pregnant, this was about the next twelve years – not the rest of her life.

“In case you would favor leaving Malfoy Manor at such time, a suitable residence would be provided as well as a formal separation, if you wish.”

So after twelve years she would be allowed to divorce him? She hadn’t paid too much attention to the pureblood families lately or during her school days but she was almost certain that divorce was virtually unheard of. Such couples lived in mutual loathing until either of them died – sooner or later.

“You are not required to share my quarters, you will have your own in the same wing as mine. The child will have theirs nearby as well, once it is old enough to need them.”

Ruth didn’t know whether to be relieved about not having to sleep in his bed every night, or to feel vaguely nauseated at the idea that either of them would have to come to the other for the… marital duties. One thing she did know though was that their son would not grow up to be such a spoiled brat, like his father had been, despite said father probably providing his son with the same, vast abundance as he had received as a child. Briefly, only for the fraction of a moment, she wondered what would happen if the firstborn was a daughter. She was too overwhelmed to ask though and the lone thought that he could very well just extend their arrangement for another two years or however long it would take to produce a son, was too harrowing.  
  


“As I stated yesterday, part of the agreement is indefinite care for Dai-“

“Don’t say her name,” she cut him off sharply.

He paused and looked at her for a moment, face unreadable, then continued.

“Part of the agreement is indefinite care for your sister, both in the temporal as well as the monetary sense.”

She swallowed thickly, feeling like crumbs of the delicious shortbread were now still scratching down her throat. “This would naturally end with a formal separation,” she said, not daring to make it a real question. Twelve years of top-notch care was better than nothing, wasn’t it? Twelve years was also a long time to decide whether or not she needed that formal separation or if she could bear continuing the marriage for the sake of her little sister.

“I am quite certain indefinitely is defined as having no end,” he responded and she blinked, again.

“You would take care of her even if we’re divorced?!” She gaped at him.

“Yes,” he confirmed simply and she needed a moment to digest that. He watched her carefully sip her tea, one sugar, splash of milk, and also dip her biscuit into the hot liquid before she ate a bite of it. “That would be part of the concessions towards the wife. Of course, there will be a sufficient allowance to be used at your discretion and a trust fund for the child for educational and other expenses once they are of age. Anything before their seventeenth will be covered by myself. Then, naturally, the child would inherit the estate after my passing.”

Ruth’s blinking became quicker as her disbelief, or rather lack of understanding, grew with every word.

“So you will cover my sister’s care indefinitely as well as give me an allowance, as well as pay for him before and after he is of age, and if I want to divorce you after he’s eleven, you’ll still give me money even if we’re no longer married,” she summarized rapidly.

“It is custom that you may also select a family heirloom from the vaults as a… wedding gift of sorts,” he added calmly, taking a sip of his own tea. He should have asked Neesy to bring his brew, he thought, but he would be damned to ever tell Ruth that her tea tasted like stale rainwater. 

She was now blinking so rapidly that it looked like she had something caught in her eyes.

“You must have lost your mind,” she burst out after several moments. “Why on earth would you call in a bogus favor – that we both know you never expected to be able to cash in on because I was not expected to even be alive after the war – and marry the daughter of two Muggle-borns only so you could throw piles of money and property at her as well as have a son with her to be the heir to two of the best known pureblood families that will lose their membership in the Sacred Twenty-Eight the moment its official we’re married?”

He was a picture of perfect calm even as she lost the last grip on her own, incredulous as well as surprisingly enraged, and dunked a piece of shortbread into his tea, biting off a corner and chewing it with perfect ease.

“Malfoy!” she snapped at him, demanding a response.

“Ah, yes, that would be another thing. Nothing for the agreement, of course, but I would prefer if we could call each other by first names once we are wed. I find the practice of referring to a spouse by their surname abhorrent, quite frankly. I have heard your colleagues refer to you as Anne most of the time so you will have to let me know what you prefer, Ruth or Anne or Ruth-Anne.”

She stared at him, chest heaving with her breaths. “You’re not going to tell me why,” she stated and dropped back into her chair, the piece of furniture creaking dangerously which made his eye twitch for the shortest of moments.

“You owe me a favor and I need a wife and an heir,” he repeated easily.

~*~*~*~


	4. Taking care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: panic attack with visualization (Skip from after “A week from today.” to the next paragraph starting with “Here, drink something.”)

~*~*~*~

_“You’re not going to tell me why,” she stated and dropped back into her chair, the piece of furniture creaking dangerously which made his eye twitch for the shortest of moments._

_“You owe me a favor and I need a wife and an heir,” he repeated easily._

~*~*~*~

Truly, she was already tired of hearing him talk about a favor that was nothing but a scam. He had done something for her, for her sister, but both of them had been as good as dead anyway, the daughters of two Muggle-borns. At best, in the moment that he had spared them, he had only delayed the inevitable. From the moment the school records had been in You-Know-Who’s hands, they had been marked for Azkaban and/or death. Then again, at some point so had he.

Then, all of them had lived. Or at least, their three hearts were still beating. She wasn’t sure if she would have called her sister’s state living but there was nothing else that could be done for her. Except to make her as comfortable as possible and with his help, she would be. Maybe that was the true favor.

“Please, have a few more. It would spare me the disappointed look on Neesy’s face that her mistress didn’t like her biscuits well enough.” He gestured to the treats on display.

“So I would have my own house-elf,” she inquired in a non-question again and munched on another biscuit if only to have something to occupy herself with.

Her head was swimming. Allowance, indefinite care, trust fund, wizarding school age, formal separation, property of her choice, her own quarters – these things were brewing up a right storm in her head and she could feel a headache forming already.

“Yes, among the ones that serve the general household there is always one assigned specifically to the Lady of the Manor,” he explained and she went back to just blinking at the new information instead of shrieking about it which he much preferred. He had known she would have questions, a question, and that not answering them, it, wouldn’t help the state of their future marriage but he would not.

Ruth let out a shuddery breath. “You are really going to make me Lady Malfoy.”

“Of course, the Ministry has been and will continue to closely monitor the household so the house-elves are restricted to strictly household tasks,” he went on and she didn’t have to think long for what other tasks the house-elves may have had before. “The child will have its own nurse-elf but I thought that this selection should be made by both parents.”

Lady of the Manor. He wanted her to be the Lady of the Manor, Lady Malfoy. She wasn’t just going to be his wife, she was going to be Lady Malfoy. He had to have lost the grip on his entire upbringing, prejudices, traditions, duties, all of it.

“What does your mother think about this?” she asked before she could think better of it. Wasn’t his mother Lady Malfoy? The seat of Head of House had been passed on to him, she had read that much, but did that mean his mother was no longer Lady Malfoy? Surely Narcissa Malfoy still lived at Malfoy Manor as well, right? She wasn’t going to be very impressed, Ruth could imagine.

“My mother is perfectly content with the developments,” he answered and although there were no tells, she knew that it was a lie. _He_ knew it was a lie.

“She lives at the manor, too, doesn’t she?” That was not bound to go over well.

“My mother has her own wing and is not likely to trespass into ours uninvited,” he replied, his neutral tone hardening a touch. Going by his manner of speaking, all of what he had said seemed to be the most obvious, most logical and most nonchalant business in the world. She was almost envious of that skill but she knew the restrictive upbringing such skills were honed in and she much preferred her own upbringing, even if it made her prone to wearing her heart on her sleeve.

Also, trespass. That was a mighty word to use in reference to his mother entering a part of her own house. Trespass was a criminal offense by law, both in the Muggle as well as the wizarding world. She didn’t imagine he was likely to report his mother as a trespasser but the message was perfectly clear. His mother was to keep herself away from his wing, more broadly speaking from his life, including his wife and potentially including the future grandson. That was a lot to take in.

“She has requested to attend the ceremony of course, but I have already declined holding a feast up to her standards for the occasion. I hope you’ll agree with that.”

“Your mother wants to come to your wedding, that’s not exactly surprising,” she replied dryly. “What does ‘feast to her standards’ mean?”

“My parents’ wedding was an opulent ball with several hundred guests that required a year in planning and funds that could renovate the entire Ministry very easily,” he told her and she let out a slow breath.

Several hundred guests? A year in planning? Funds to renovate the entire Ministry? That was a lot. So much a lot. Nevermind that she had never imagined her potential wedding at such a size, she doubted that several hundred people would even be willing to attend a Malfoy wedding these days. She didn’t know what connections he still had, his family still had, but many of them had surely broken after and due to the war, not at last because a significant number of the previous wedding guests surely were in the same places either of their fathers were.

“What kind of wedding will it be then?” she inquired slowly. He had to be aware that there weren’t even a dozen people on her guest list. Some of them she couldn’t be sure would attend once they learned who the groom was, if any of them. His was the family who cared about appearances, who knew how to do feasts and balls and all those things, and had the money for it. She would just be there as the new wife to be inspected and no doubt judged by all the other guests.

“None.”

She blinked once. “None?”

“There is an appointment in our names with a Ministry official for our formal ceremony which will be sufficient for recognizing and authenticating our union. Nothing more is required.”

Ruth didn’t even try to keep her face in check at that. Everything he was telling her was reading between the lines as doing the exact and entire opposite of what was expected of him. No wedding? Just the formal ceremony at the Ministry? She didn’t know what to make of it.

“And when is this appointment?” In the Muggle world such dates had to be applied for months in advance, surely it was similar in the wizarding world.

“A week from today.”

He went on speaking after that, possibly about the appointment, possibly about his mother and a ball after all, but it all got lost in the buzzing in her ears. She saw his mouth move and in some way her ears did report that he was making sounds but her brain couldn’t process any of it.

A week.

The appointment for their wedding was in a week.

Seven days.

Seven days until she had to leave her home, her safe place, her hideout, her anchor, and live in a manor, with him.

A manor she had heard many things about, terrible things.

A place where one of her shadows had resided.

A manor that was not small, that likely had so many rooms.

Big rooms, long hallways, dark corners with shadows.

A manor with different wings.

A wing she was going to share with him but that her mother-in-law wasn’t allowed to enter.

A manor with house-elves.

With a house-elf that was specifically tending to her.

Her mind conjured up an intimidating, enormous building.

Dark and dreary, impenetrable, hostile.

Wisps of fog caught in the sweeping, shadowy grounds surrounding it.

Lightless windows lined the walls and then she was inside.

In a dark room.

A big room.

The ceiling so high.

The walls far away, the corners in the dark.

A room where the walls were coming closer.

Where she couldn’t breathe.

She could only look out of the window.

Into the endless gardens with all the bushes.

And the trees.

And the fog.

And all the shadows.

So many shadows.

The shadows were calling her name.

They always called her name.

Quietly at first.

Then the shadows called louder.

And louder.

Until her name was louder than the rustling in the bushes, the buzzing in her ears. The shadows were never louder than the buzzing in her ears.

“Ruth.”

The room became smaller.

“Ruth.”

Brighter.

“Ruth.”

The ceiling wasn’t as far away.

“Ruth.”

It wasn’t as cold.

“Ruth.”

There was something warm and she could smell something sweet and pleasant and-

“Ruth, breathe. You have to breathe slowly.”

Her hands were wrapped around something, tightly gripping something. She looked down herself, followed her forearm to her hands, followed the forearms she was gripping on to, up his shoulders and into his face.

“Good, very good. Breathe, just breathe. You’re alright.”

She swallowed, her throat dry and sore. She was cold but she was sweating.

“Here.” He peeled off her hand from his wrist and brought it to his neck, to his jugular. He placed her fingertips and a few gasping breaths later she could feel it. The warmth. The steady pulse of his heartbeat. “Feel it.” He took her other hand and brought her fingers to her own heartbeat, so much faster than his. “Take mine. Now breathe. Three in, three out.”

She sucked in a gulp of air.

Pulse.

Out.

Pulse.

In.

Pulse.

Out.

Pulse, pulse.

In.

Pulse.

Out.

Pulse.

In.

Pulse, pulse.

Out.

Pulse, pulse.

In.

Pulse, pulse.

Out.

Pulse, pulse.

She didn’t know how but eventually she was able to breathe with three of his pulses, sometimes even four. Then she noticed that her own pulse had slowed, was beating almost in time with his.

“Here, drink something.” He held her hand to his neck still as he reached for something and then he was carefully raising her cup of tea to her lips. “Slowly.”

She opened her lips and took a sip, finding the liquid surprisingly and pleasantly warm.

“Can you hold it?”

She looked into his face mutely, still trying to grasp back onto reality, but her hand went from her own neck and shakily took hold of the cup. Luckily it wasn’t so full that her trembling would spill it. She put the edge to her mouth again and took another sip.

“Good. Very good. You’re doing really well.”

He removed her hand from his neck then and guided it to wrap around the cup as well, the warmth of the tea seeping through the ceramic into her icy fingers.

He slid away from her then and she leaned her head back against the wall. The wall? She was sitting with her back against the wall, on the floor. When had she moved here?

A moment later he was back in her field of vision, pulling her from the wall just enough that he could drape her blanket around her. She nuzzled into the soft fabric, smelling the comforting smell of something familiar, feeling the warmth it was giving her.

“Keep drinking,” he encouraged her so she took another sip.

He was kneeling in front of her and he knelt there until she had finished her tea after which he refilled her cup and guided her to drink some more. He gave her another biscuit between the sips of warm tea, making sure to keep her blanket tucked around her, all while still kneeling on the floor with her.

“You should rest,” he said when she was through with the second cup of tea and the biscuit. “I’ll help you stand.” He put the cup aside and grasped onto her elbows, standing himself first and then pulling her up carefully. She felt a little dizzy with it, standing, the room blurring at the edges. “You should lie down, come on.” He led her over to her bed and helped her lie down. He retrieved the blanket and spread it over her again. He spoke quietly then, while her eyes fell shut, eyelids too heavy to keep open, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying, couldn’t make the sounds turn into words, into meaning. She felt him pull the blanket up to her chin and then she was out, drifted off into unfilled dreams.

~*~*~*~

When Ruth woke, she was alone. Her room was empty and the lights were off. She sat up abruptly, hand pointing out to where the switch was on the wall by the front door. The lights went on and the tightness in her chest eased.

“Mistress bes awakes!”

She wasn’t alone at all, she realized then. Neesy was there, standing at the side of the bed.

For some reason that made her tears up and she covered her eyes with her hand, trying to breathe.

She had had a panic attack. A pretty big one, going by how exhausted she felt and the size of the black hole in her memory. He- _Draco_ had been there and he had… He had helped her, out of the fog and back into the present, had taken care of her afterwards, had made her drink and eat, then put her to bed. And she had no doubt that he had made Neesy come and stay with her when he left.

“Mistress no cries,” Neesy pleaded frantically, hopping up onto the bed and tugging on Ruth’s elbow. “Master Draco says all good, just rest. And eat. Does Mistress wants to eat? Neesy can brings anything Mistress likes!”

Ruth took a few deep breaths before she lowered her hand and wiped her cheeks. “That’s very kind of you, Neesy. Could I have some soup maybe?” Something warm, and liquid, easy on the stomach. Soup sounded like heaven on earth in that moment.

“Neesy bringings the soup!” Neesy promised immediately and popped away.

Ruth slid back into her pillow with a deep exhale and closed her eyes for a moment. She felt completely shattered and she hated it. It had been such a long time since she had felt this way, she had worked so hard not to feel like this anymore and then with his appearance, everything was turned upside down again.

She knew exactly what had brought on the attack. There was nothing she could do about it though. He wanted the wedding in a week so in a week she would be living at the manor. She had a week to prepare for that.

Neesy returned with a pop, the sound startling Ruth no matter how soft it was. The elf provided her with a tray that had legs to stand freely over Ruth’s lap and on the tray was a bowl of steaming soup as well as a cup of steaming tea and a matching pot.

“Master Draco is sendings his well-wishings. If Mistress bes needings anything, Neesy can brings!”

“Thank you, Neesy, I think this is great for now. What kind of soup is it?” Ruth picked up the silver spoon and stirred it through the thick, white contents of the bowl.

“Cream of asparagus, Mistress. It’s beings Master Draco’s favorite,” the elf explained and watched with the same eager expression as earlier with the biscuits as Ruth brought the first spoonful to her lips.

She closed her eyes as her mouth filled with the hot food, the rich aroma swiping over her taste buds pleasantly. This soup was amazing and exactly what she needed.

“The soup is wonderful,” she told the elf who seemed pleased. “This is… Draco’s favorite?” She struggled with the name for a moment. Surnames had been prevalent at school and since yesterday she hadn’t really thought of him by name, he had just been… he. But he had mentioned wanting to go by first names and she agreed that addressing your spouse by last name was terrible and also ridiculous.

“Yes,” Neesy nodded. “What is Mistress’ favorite? Neesy makings next time!”

Ruth let out a hum, hand shoveling the soup into her mouth by its own accord. Her belly filled with the liquid warmth and it was heavenly.

“I like cream of asparagus, too,” she began. “I also like mushrooms and then of course chicken vegetable soup is never wrong.”

Neesy nodded eagerly and Ruth had no doubt that the elf was running a list with her mistress’ favorites now. What a foreign concept. Her own house-elf.

“Neesy, is Draco nice to you?” she asked the elf slowly. The elves at Hogwarts had been treated fairly, as far as house-elves went, but she was well aware that house-elves weren’t always treated well by their families. Hermione Granger had made sure to further her school agenda to improve the treatment and rights of house-elves and Draco had mentioned the house-elves at Malfoy Manor were restricted to household tasks now. He had also said thank you to the elf, and please, and he hadn’t been short with her at all. Still, that said nothing.

“Master Draco is beings nice to Neesy and to every house-elf,” Neesy answered freely.

“And that is the truth?” Ruth gave the elf a firm look.

“All the truths!” Neesy insisted energetically. “Master Draco buyings the things for Neesy and the others and Master Draco is being making the elves not working sometimes!” The last part didn’t seem to agree well with the elf.

“He makes you take vacation?”

Neesy nodded, small face twisted into a scowl. “Mistress is being making Neesy take vacations too?” She eyed the young woman suspiciously.

“I suppose that would be a rule of the house, wouldn’t it? So the head of the house decides that,” Ruth replied slowly. Not because she didn’t have her own opinion but because she didn’t want to argue with the elf now, or ever, and because she didn’t know what rules Draco had made at the manor. She was going to stay out of this to the best of her ability.

Neesy grumbled at that but didn’t say anything loud enough for Ruth to understand.

“And…” Ruth swallowed. “And Draco’s mother? Mrs. Malfoy?”

“Mistress Malfoy is havings Pospy as personal elf, Mistress,” Neesy told her.

Ruth nodded. Of course Narcissa Malfoy would have her own elf.

“And is she nice to you as well?”

“Mistress Malfoy is givings Pospy and Neesy this!” Neesy hopped up onto the bed again and proudly showed Ruth what turned out to be earrings in the elf’s large and fluttery ears, small, silvery hoops. “Mistress Malfoy is beings changings sometimes. Pospy is havings…” The elf took a deep breath like it was a big secret. “Gold,” she whispered conspiratorially.

“I like your earrings, they suit you very well,” Ruth told her with a smile and Neesy squeaked in delight.

“Mistress is havings many earrings too!” With a wave of the small elf hand, the empty bowl and spoon disappeared and Neesy pushed the cup of tea over to her mistress. Ruth picked it up dutifully and took a sip. It wasn’t the black tea from earlier but something with a hint of fruit, very pleasant and very calming.

“Oh, I haven’t worn earrings in a long time,” Ruth responded, hand going out to her pierced but empty lobe.

“Master Draco is beings collecting,” Neesy added and that did stump Ruth a little.

“What do you mean?”

Neesy’s eyes widened comically. “Neesy beings ruins the surprise!” she squeaked behind her hand.

Ruth couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’s alright, I won’t tell.”

Neesy grumbled under her breath again and jumped off the bed. “Mistress is drinkings the tea and Neesy tidyings!” she announced and although Ruth wanted to protest, she didn’t. She couldn’t. She didn’t have the energy to argue with the elf, she barely had the energy to sit here and drink the tea. So she watched Neesy flit around the single room flat and tidy up this, clean that, vanish the contents of the garbage bin. What would have taken Ruth several days to get done, Neesy did in less than 30 minutes.

“Mistress should sleepings now and callings Neesy for breakfasts!” Neesy instructed her when Ruth slid back into her pillows and the elf took back the tray.

“Thank you, Neesy.”

“Shhh, sleeps now!” Neesy shushed her insistently and Ruth curled up with a small, amused grin on her lips.

~*~*~*~


	5. An old friend, and a new one

~*~*~*~

No one else made an appearance for two days and Ruth spent those two days mainly in bed, only calling on Neesy twice, once each day. Neesy brought food and tea and fussed with Ruth’s room some more. Otherwise everything was quiet and she slept.

After those two days someone knocked on the door again and the door opened freely as the person who was on the other side was set into the wards. Ruth didn’t have a lot of magic going but she did have that.

“Hello, Ruthie,” Hannah said softly, coming over to the bed to drop a kiss to her friend’s forehead.

“Hey,” Ruth replied tiredly and turned onto her side to face Hannah who sat down on the edge of the bed.

“How long?” Hannah asked simply, looking around but finding a surprisingly clean and tidy room that was completely in contrast to the young woman in the bed who very obviously hadn’t left the bed and cleaned herself up in a while.

“Two days,” Ruth answered honestly. “Well, almost three I guess you could say.”

“Alright, then we’re gonna stick your smelly bum in the shower today,” Hannah decided easily and Ruth had no protests. “I came to return this.” Hannah held up the small cloth bag Ruth had put the ring in to pass along to Bill. “He says there’s not a lick of magic on it.”

That matched what Draco had told her, that it was ‘new’ and hadn’t been in either family ever. She took the jewelry bag and pulled out the ring, sliding it back onto her ring finger. She’d thought it fit perfectly because it had sizing charms on it but if Bill said there wasn’t a lick of magic on it then maybe Draco was just good at guessing, or lucky, as he had purchased it.

“What are you not telling me?” Hannah wanted to know, picking up her friend’s hand to inspect the ring as it was on. Ruth had no doubt that Hannah had had a closer look at the ring already but wearing it on her left ring finger did give it a little more background and significance.

“I’m getting married.”

Hannah blinked and tilted her head. “That is… surprising?” she offered slowly.

“Innit,” Ruth deadpanned and they both had a chuckle at that. “It’s next week.”

“You’re getting married next week and you’re only just telling me? Wow, I really hate you a little bit right now.” Hannah rolled her eyes. “You cow.”

Ruth grinned slightly. “It’s a recent development but I’d like it if you could come. You and Neville both.”

“Sure, when is it?”

“Next Tuesday, the 24th.”

“How long have you known?” Hannah quirked an eyebrow.

“A couple of days.”

“That _is_ a recent development alright,” Hannah agreed. “But you’ve always been a quick decider. You know, once you got over your procrastination.”

The friends shared a look. They were both prone to procrastination and they had paid the price over the years.

“We’ll be there,” Hannah promised then and Ruth felt a little better. Only that Hannah had no idea who the groom was and since she hadn’t asked yet, Ruth was pretty sure that Hannah already knew that Ruth wouldn’t like telling her. That Hannah wasn’t grilling her about the relationship Ruth had never told her about which was now culminating in a wedding, said everything. She was thankful she had a friend like that but she was a little afraid of how things would go come Tuesday. “Just give me the time and place and we’ll be there.”

“Thank you.”

Hannah gave her friend a warm smile. “That’s what friends are for. Now. Enough chit-chat, my dear, you stink and so I am sticking you in the shower. Let’s go.”

They got Ruth into the shower and afterwards into a clean set of lounge clothes with practiced ease. The practiced ease that came with just that – practice. Ruth didn’t know how many times Hannah had gone through the motions of that task with her before but it had been many. Hannah had found her stuck in bed like that countless of times.

Ruth’s friend stayed for a little longer, made tea, chatted about her impending nursing apprenticeship and the end of Neville’s first year as a Hogwarts teacher. Neither of them had ever doubted that he would be a good herbology professor but teaching was a profession that required experience and Neville had gained quite some in his first year. It was exhausting though, that kind of experience came with sweat, blood and tears so to speak, but he was good, the students liked him and Professor Sprout had praised him regularly.

Now Hannah was soon beginning her nursing apprenticeship and hoping to relieve Madam Pomfrey as matron at Hogwarts eventually. Madam Pomfrey had indicated to Hannah at Hannah’s last visit to the school that she might retire in the coming years and had seemed well pleased that Hannah was going to train to become a nurse. That much was still a secret though, Hannah insisted and Ruth promised to keep the secret.

Hannah also insisted that Ruth come to their place on Sunday to talk more about the wedding but really Hannah just wanted her to leave the house again. Ruth agreed.

~*~*~*~

The day after Hannah’s visit, Ruth knew she had to go to work. If only to hand in her notice. She had just four more days until the wedding and after that she was not likely to work anymore.

Her manager was suspicious, asking whether the strange man had anything to do with it but Ruth could be a good liar when she wanted to. She had made up many things about her sister’s condition in the past and this was just another one. Everyone was sympathetic that she needed to move on short notice to help care for her sister who in reality hadn’t moved more than from one room to the next one in five years.

Five years it had been. It seemed like an eternity but also like such a short time. Five years since she had been able to speak to her sister and receive a response. Five years since her life had spiraled out of control. Now things were developing in an entirely new direction all over again.

When she got home, Neesy was waiting for her and Ruth could tell that there was something the elf had to do or tell her with the way she bustling about as she made tea for Ruth.

“What is it, Neesy?” she asked the elf, accepting the perfectly brewed tea and taking a sip. This was definitely worlds better than anything she had ever brewed for herself.

“Neesy shouldn’t sayings,” Neesy hemmed and hawed, fiddling with the bottom of what Ruth was pretty sure had once been a pillowcase. A nice, floral pillowcase but a pillowcase.

“I’m not going to get mad,” Ruth promised and that was easy to promise since her expectations for whatever Draco had instructed the elf with were… Well, she had no expectations.

“Master Draco has being told Neesy is being new Mistress’ elf but old Mistress has being told Neesy too,” Neesy admitted fretfully.

“What did Mrs. Malfoy tell you?” Ruth asked neutrally and inwardly steeled herself for something Draco might not be very pleased about since Neesy was fretting about it so much.

“Mistress Malfoy is beings asking to visit Mistress. And givings Mistress a present.”

Ruth blinked. “She wants to visit me?”

Neesy nodded.

“And she gave you a present for me?”

Neesy nodded again and with the snap of her little fingers, a box appeared on Ruth’s still enlarged table. You kind of had to slide yourself around it now but more table space was quite nice actually.

Ruth eyed the box hesitantly. Draco had given her a new ring, no magic at all, but she couldn’t expect the same from Narcissa Malfoy, could she?

“Neesy is forgettings the letter!” Neesy slapped her hand over her face and produced a folded parchment, handing it to Ruth.

Ruth unfolded the letter, breaking the Malfoy seal, and blinked at the writing on it. It seemed like the Malfoys were paying Gringotts and Bill Weasley considerable amounts of galleons at the moment, considering he had not only checked her engagement ring but also this jewelry set of a necklace and earrings (as said the letter with the official Gringotts letterhead) as well as remodeling Malfoy Manor to make it safe for her. Granted, he didn’t know it was all for her. She wasn’t sure how that would go down since somehow that would probably make its way to Neville and Hannah and that wasn’t going to go over well at all. Maybe she shouldn’t have invited them to the ceremony but the idea of turning up alone was even worse. She’d have to make do. She always did.

The letter confirmed the authenticity of the jewelry and listed the charms that had been removed from it (various kinds of Muggle repelling and other dark stuff, nice) as well as the ones that had remained. Sizing charms, for example, also protective ones as well as some that fell under the spectrum of beauty charms. Nothing even remotely harmful was left. The contents of that box were safe.

Opening the box, Ruth knew that Draco and his mother either shared tastes or they had conferred together because these earrings and this necklace went together with her ring too well to be coincidence. The earrings had each had a pear shaped diamond in the middle, dangling in a diamond studded frame. The necklace had a similar stone as the center of a heart shaped locket that, naturally, was also covered in diamonds. As the ring, the metal was yellow gold.

There was a note tucked into the top of the box, the handwriting neater and more elegant than the document penned and signed by Bill Weasley once more.

_Dear Miss Norrington,_

_As has been custom in the family for many generations, I am passing on a set of jewelry to my future daughter-in-law to wear on her wedding day. I hope you will find in Mr. Weasley’s letter than this set has undergone thorough maintenance and should provide only positive and enhancing qualities to you._

_I would be pleased to meet with you for tea prior to the ceremony to welcome you into the family. Be assured that as by my son’s express wishes, I do not intend to impede on your nuptials. If there is anything I may be of assistance with regarding the shortly impending day, please do not hesitate to contact me._

_Yours,_

_Narcissa Malfoy_

So Narcissa Malfoy did indeed want to meet with her and had expressed so in a vaguely welcoming note. The note was polite and all that but Ruth had a feeling that Narcissa wasn’t as on board as Draco had claimed and as the note suggested. Still, she had gone through the trouble of having Bill secure this jewelry set for her.

And she was offering Ruth help with the wedding which Ruth wasn’t sure what that entailed because Draco had said his mother wanted a big ball for them which neither of them wanted but Ruth had no idea what to expect and she didn’t have a dress or anything at all and-

She took a deep breath.

And another.

And another.

And then she found some paper and a pen, and wrote back to Narcissa Malfoy, her soon-to-be mother-in-law, and sent the letter back with Neesy. The jewelry set remained and Ruth allowed herself to marvel at the sparkling and the prisms like she had with the ring, even if she didn’t dare take the jewelry out.

~*~*~*~

Diagon Alley was a place that Ruth generally avoided. She avoided many places so that was nothing special. Anywhere with a lot of people she tried to find an alternative for. However, there was no alternative to Narcissa Malfoy’s invitation to a tearoom. For one, Ruth wouldn’t have known an alternative place to go, and then the other thing was that she didn’t want to disgruntle her soon-to-be mother-in-law before they even first met in person. So she pulled herself together, put on clothes she didn’t feel out of place in, cleaned herself and apparated herself as closely to the tearoom as possible.

It was no surprise that the tearoom was closer to Knockturn Alley but it looked inviting enough from the outside. Once she had stepped through the door, she liked it even more – simply for the fact that the front windows were charmed to preserve the privacy of the patrons inside. No doubt that was why it had been chosen. A waitress intercepted her before she had taken more than two steps and led her towards the back, up a case of stairs into the first floor extension of the well-visited tearoom where Narcissa Malfoy was sitting in a corner booth. The older woman stood immediately upon spotting her son’s fiancée.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” Ruth greeted her politely, coming up to the table. Did people like Narcissa Malfoy shake hands? Her parents had taught her to draw her clues from the older person and since the older person didn’t extend her hand for a shake, neither did Ruth.

“Narcissa, please,” the older woman requested and gestured to the empty seat at the table. “Have a seat. We will be served shortly.”

“Ruth then,” Ruth agreed and took a seat. “Thank you for the invitation.”

“Thank you for accepting it,” Narcissa responded and those were the pleasantries dealt with then, weren’t they? Ruth didn’t know what else to say then.

The waitress reappeared, loading the table with tableware, a tea pot and two porcelain étagères, one with savory treats to accompany tea and the other with sweet pastries.

“Draco mentioned you prefer not to let your tea steep too long,” Narcissa said upon submerging the tea strainer with the tea into the pot.

“I suppose so,” Ruth replied slowly. Why was it such a foreign concept to everyone in the Malfoy family that she liked her tea steeped at four and a half minutes? “I wasn’t aware that it was out of the ordinary.”

“Oh, it is not,” Narcissa assured her easily. “My son is simply a perceptive person.”

“That he is.” Ruth doubted Draco’s mother was aware that her son had essentially stalked her for a few weeks before dropping his proposal on her. She doubted he’d even told her how this union had come about at all.

“Ruth-Anne,” Narcissa began then and paused. “You prefer Ruth, you said, didn’t you? I apologize.”

“Both is fine,” Ruth assured her. “Despite my parents giving me both names and even binding them together with the hyphen, I was mostly called Ruth. Ruth-Anne is a mouthful but I like both.”

“Very well. The sense of hyphenating the names and then only using one does appear somewhat elusive,” Narcissa agreed politely and Ruth couldn’t help but try to keep in a smile. The corners of her mouth quirked anyway and Narcissa definitely saw.

“Exactly.”

“Ruth-Anne,” Narcissa started anew. “I cannot claim I fully understand my son’s recent resolutions, however I know one thing – he is a firmly stubborn and self-assured person. As his mother I’m afraid I have had my part in that but I hope you will understand that I cannot and will not stand in the way of his own, personal convictions any more.”

Ruth looked at the older woman and pressed her lips together as the meaning of those words unfolded in her mind. Narcissa, and surely she included her husband in that, had once stood in the way of her son’s own, personal convictions. They had had a part in bringing up Draco the way he had been and had thus brought him into the life he had to live now – a convict, on lifelong probation, with a father serving a life-sentence. It was surely not by chance that Narcissa’s face showed her regret and sadness.

“If I may ask this of you despite us not knowing each other at all, I do not wish for us to be adversaries. First and foremost I wish for my son to be happy and if marrying you helps him on his quest to find sense in his life again, then I will do whatever may be in my might to assist.”

Ruth nodded slowly and swallowed, becoming aware of the lump that had started forming in her throat. It may very well have all been just a show, a ploy to convince her to believe Narcissa had nothing against her but Ruth didn’t think so. If Narcissa didn’t agree with her son marrying her, then there would have been plenty of other ways she could have interfered. Attempting a tentative alliance with her daughter-in-law would not prevent it from happening, though it might serve other intentions the older woman possibly had.

“Draco has made it clear to me that this union is important to him and as such, it is important to me. I know he told you that we have been having a team of Curse-Breakers and the likes in our home to ensure your safety and comfort.”

“Yes, he mentioned it,” Ruth confirmed. “If I may ask, how long have they been working on it?”

Narcissa pursed her lips momentarily, looking away for a second. “I’m sure you’re aware of our family’s connections during the war,” she admitted awkwardly. “The nature of the manor’s use made it necessary to allow plenty of time for the obvious and hidden to be assessed and resolved.”

Yes, Ruth could imagine that having You-Know-Who live in your house made you want to be very, very sure that the Curse-Breakers didn’t miss anything. Especially when you had the daughter of two Muggle-borns moving in.

“It was one of the first things he set in motion when he came home three months ago.”

Ruth couldn’t keep her eyes from widening but then she nodded. Three months sounded like a long time, and it was, but considering the history of the manor three months was probably not very much at all. Also, when he had come home… This must have been very important to him if it was one of the first things he did after being released from Azkaban prison.

“Draco has been very… open during that time, assisting whenever he was able and revealing many things his father would not agree with, I’m sure.”

Again, that didn’t surprise Ruth. Draco didn’t seem like he cared about his father’s opinions anymore. His mother’s were a different story though.

“I think we feel very similar in one aspect, Narcissa,” she told the other woman and met her eyes which were very like Draco’s. Or rather, Draco’s eyes were very much like his mother’s where otherwise he looked much like his father. “Neither of us really understands what it is he is seeking at this moment.”

Surprisingly, that drew a small laugh from Narcissa and Ruth felt a little stunned to hear and see it.

“I’m very sure we are not the first and probably not the last women to feel this way,” she smiled and took a sip of her tea. Ruth had mostly forgotten about hers but found the contents of her cup pleasantly warm still. She needed to acquire a couple of those charmed tea cups as well, she thought, and then thought that she didn’t need to get any, her future husband definitely had an abundance of them at hand. There weren’t going to be a lot of things she really needed to get, come Tuesday, were there?

“Would you tell me a little about yourself, Ruth-Anne? Draco has mentioned only that you met at school.” Narcissa was watching her attentively and Ruth wondered what the observant woman was storing away about her already. She hoped her manners weren’t too awful, she hadn’t spent time in polite company in a long time.

“My full name is Ruth-Anne Norrington. I was in the same year as Draco and sorted into Hufflepuff house on my first day at Hogwarts. My sister joined Gryffindor house a year later. Our parents were both Muggle-borns,” Ruth rattled off, forcing herself not to allow her brain to connect emotions with the content of her words. “After the end of the war it was offered to me to sit for a repeat year as I was unable to attend school that year. I chose to decline for personal reasons and have mainly been living in Muggle London since.”

“Have you wished to complete your education?” Narcissa asked and it was probably the least sensitive aspect to ask about.

“No,” Ruth answered honestly and she could just see Narcissa store away that. Once upon a time Ruth would have answered yes, would have wanted to complete her studies, to move on to advanced studies and perhaps even attain a mastery. But such notions had moved further and further away the more time had passed. “Has Draco? In the Muggle world it is possible for inmates to complete several different courses in order to further their education but I’m not sure how that is handled in the wizarding equivalent.”

Narcissa gave her a thoughtful look. “In that sense it does seem that the Muggle world is more progressive than the wizarding world,” she said quietly. “There was a time when my son was very invested in reaching a mastery, most probably in potions, however he has not displayed such inclination since his return.”

Ruth nodded in understanding. War did that to you, and even more so prison.

“In case you wish to further your own knowledge in any way, I’m proud to say that the house library is still very extensive. Certain tomes have of course been removed but what remains should still be plentiful.”

A house library. If she could find her way there, she already knew that she would stay hours upon hours there, for the smell alone. The scent of books, of parchment, paper, knowledge, there was nothing like it. Dai- Her sister had been the one more inclined to actually read the books whereas Ruth was content just to surround herself with them.

“Will anyone be attending on your behalf on Tuesday?”

It was a rather abrupt change of topic or maybe Ruth had just drifted off for a moment.

“Oh. Yes,” she startled back into focus. “I invited a friend and her husband.”

Narcissa nodded. “Very well. I’m sure my son has told you he forbade me from planning a more fitting setting for the important day.”

“He has.” Ruth tried a piece of cheese on the savory étagère, hoping she wasn’t being terribly rude using her fingers but she had no idea how to properly treat what to her was finger food. “He mentioned your wedding.”

Narcissa let out a very unexpected noise, nearly a snort. Ruth had trouble containing her jaw which very much wanted to drop.

“I would be a terrible mother if I did not know that my son has neither the patience nor the desire for such lavish festivities. Nevermind the fact it would not be appropriate to host such a function given our current situation, we would be hard-pressed to amass such a number of guests at the present time.”

Well, Narcissa truly spoke in many fancy words but she was a realist, that much was sure. Ruth commended her for that.

“However, I was hoping I could convince you to let me organize a much smaller event in your honor. It simply feels wrong not to celebrate such an important occasion.” Narcissa gave her a hopeful look and now Ruth knew why this had all come about. Narcissa wasn’t just here to learn about her new daughter-in-law, she was here to get her will after all.

“While I do agree, I have to admit I would not even know where to begin planning such an event,” Ruth admitted and something lit up in the older woman’s grayish-blue eyes.

“I would be more than happy to assist,” the older woman assured her with noticeably barely contained eagerness.

“Very well,” Ruth reused Narcissa’s previous phrase. “If you would, I think your assistance in preparation for Tuesday would be appreciated as well. Draco has said it is to be a simple, formal ceremony but even so, I have never attended such a ceremony nor do I know how to dress for it.” Listening to herself, Ruth found that conversing with a woman like Narcissa definitely impacted her own speech. Her sister would have teased her ‘til kingdom come for it.

Narcissa’s face transformed in a very pleased expression which was also warm and that was the only reason that Ruth wasn’t intimidated or frightened by it. More so, it seemed like Narcissa was looking forward to doing something she knew how to do well.

“What are your plans for the rest of this afternoon, Ruth-Anne?” she asked, draining the rest of her tea and Ruth knew one thing – it was time for business.

~*~*~*~


	6. Pitiful, pathetic, sad and lonely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and all the kudos! I'm really excited that people are enjoying the story, and so thankful to those who subscribed as that lets me know you want to continue reading it :)  
I'd love to hear more about your thoughts, questions, ideas, speculations, and so on! I'll do my best to answer promptly.
> 
> There is a content warning with an additional note for this chapter today, as well as a note at the end. Quite a lot of commentary after the previous chapters there really wasn't much. I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things with regular posting and so on. On that note, I'm not sure when I will be posting the next chapter because I am on vacation over the holidays and the next Saturday is a travel day. I will do my best to have another chapter out before the year ends and hopefully resume the weekly posting in the new year.
> 
> *Quick additional note: I’ve decided it makes more sense if the elves call Narcissa something less formal than ‘Mistress Malfoy’, also that would get confusing because Ruth will be a Malfoy soon too. So they’re going to call her ‘Mistress Cissa’ from now on (I believe to remember Kreacher called her Mistress Cissy so I suppose a case could be made for the elves mimicking name usage including nicknames from the family they live with). I’ll go back and change that in the other chapters as well.
> 
> Content warning: derogatory comments about mental illness/distress, emotional distress – this cannot be skipped like in Chapter 4, but a chapter summary is provided in the notes at the end of the chapter.

~*~*~*~

The knock was distinctive. Not just because people rarely knocked on her door but also because it was sharp and precise. In that way, it could have been Draco on the other side of the door but Ruth knew it wasn’t. Simply because he had left not 20 minutes before, after they had worked on their agreement a little more. The final draft was on her table, waiting for her to have a read-through before she signed it.

This knock was different and Ruth knew why as soon as she opened the door. On the other side was none other than Harry Potter himself. He was wearing casual clothes but his expression and stance told her he was not here for a casual visit. Mrs. Tate was going to be beside herself, Ruth hadn’t had this many visitors in… ever since she had moved in.

“Mister Potter, hello. What can I do for you?” Ruth asked while she was inwardly boiling already. She had an inkling as to why an Auror had turned up after Draco had just left.

“Hello Ruth,” Harry replied calmly, giving her a look like he was almost a little sorry he was even there. “Can I come in?”

“I’m giving you permission to enter my premises but you do not have permission to search them,” she told him firmly and stepped aside.

“I’m not here to search your flat, Ruth.” He stood in the middle of her single room home in much the same, displaced way that Draco had.

“You’re here to question me about Draco.” She didn’t have the patience or energy to make a long thing of this, better to get right to it. “He’s my fiancé.”

“I know.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You must have good surveillance on him to know that.”

Harry eyed her. “Surveillance? Malfoy isn’t under surveillance.”

She scoffed. “He was released from Azkaban just a few months ago. Of course you’ve got surveillance on him. Why else would you be here? You saw him come to my work for a few weeks and follow me home, now you’re what? Trying to get me to spill on him?” She shook her head at him. She was well aware who her fiancé was and what he had done. But there were other people who had done much more horrible things who had walked away with less punishment. Besides, with the restricted wand usage what was he supposed to get up to anyway?

“He’s been following you?” He surveyed the room, too casually for it to really be casual.

“I’m not going to help you,” she made very clear, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’m not asking you to spy on Malfoy,” Harry insisted and ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t seem to want to be there and Ruth wished he would just say his piece and go. “Hannah told me.”

Ruth blinked. “Hannah?”

Harry nodded. “She told me you’re engaged to Malfoy.”

Ruth blinked again. She hadn’t told Hannah who she was engaged to, she had been debating telling her that tonight at dinner but it wasn’t dinner yet now, was it? It was barely lunch time.

“She’s worried about you,” Harry went on and Ruth just watched him look around some more, his eyebrows rising slightly when he saw the open jewelry box. She had been admiring the sparkling again. The box alone stood out in the rather simple lodgings but the contents did even more so.

“So she sent you?” Harry had once been Draco’s most passionate rival, as people said, plus Harry was now an Auror quickly moving up the ranks. Also, he was a good friend of Neville’s and by extension of Hannah’s.

“Hannah is concerned that something is off with this whole thing,” he indicated cautiously.

“Like what?”

“From what I understand, your relationship hasn’t been very long.”

He was good at this, she had to give him that. Never outright saying what Hannah had really told him, always staying on the side of concerned friend.

“I didn’t know there was a relationship length requirement on getting married. Maybe she should read up on Las Vegas,” Ruth responded dryly and the corner of his mouth twitched.

“I know about Las Vegas.” He took a step closer to the jewelry box. “May I?”

“It’s for the wedding, don’t touch,” she told him quickly, moving as well so she could see around him what he was doing. He raised his wand and cast something wordlessly. “What did you do?” She stepped around him and snapped the box shut quickly.

“How have you been feeling lately, Ruth? Has anything felt off, or different than usual?” he asked instead of answering her question and gave her a once-over.

“What did you do to my jewelry?” she repeated, a little more forcefully.

“I checked something.”

“Checked what?” She eyed him suspiciously and made the same move she had performed to rid Draco of his wand when he’d intended to heal her, aiming to stop Harry from casting whatever it was he was casting on _her_ now, only Harry had different training and easily remained holding his wand. “I did not give you permission to perform magic on my belongings nor myself! If you won’t tell me why Hannah sent you, I’m going to have to ask you to leave – and file a complaint!” She considered calling Neesy to call Draco but she didn’t think it would make anything better.

“Hannah was worried he cursed or drugged you,” he admitted and Ruth stared at him.

“What?”

Before Harry had the chance to say anything else, Ruth’s front door burst open and the woman in question barged in, closely followed by her boyfriend.

“Did you ask her? What did she say?” Hannah barreled on, shouldering Harry out of the way to get to Ruth. “It’s okay, Ruthie, we’re here. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” She took Ruth’s hand and squeezed it.

Ruth ripped her hand out of Hannah’s and took two steps back, trying to get some distance. Only that her flat was so small, it didn’t allow for much distance, especially when there were now four grown adults in the space.

“Draco didn’t curse me or drug me,” she ground out, holding up a hand to keep the woman she considered her friend from touching her again.

“He didn’t,” Harry supplied, for once helpful, before Hannah could go on.

“Of course he did something to her, otherwise she never would have agreed to marry him! It’s okay, Ruth, we’ll fix it.”

“He ran some sort of diagnostic spell on me,” Ruth pointed out icily. “Without my permission, I might add.”

“Run it again,” Hannah demanded. “What’s that?” She marched over to the table where the closed jewelry box was still lying and opened it with a flourish of her wand. “Look at this. Look, Neville, I told you. I told you! It’s from him. Don’t you remember? He’s already given someone a cursed necklace before, he’s done it again! You have to arrest him, Harry!”

“The jewelry set is a wedding present from Narcissa.” Ruth waved her hand and the box snapped shut again. “And it’s been checked by Bill Weasley personally, just like my engagement ring – and Malfoy Manor, actually.”

Hannah gestured wildly. “Then he gave you a potion. We need to take you to St. Mungo’s and run some tests. He likely used something difficult to trace but I know an expert. We’ll get you an antidote and you’ll be right as rain in no time, I promise.”

“Draco didn’t give me a potion!” Ruth crossed her arms over her chest again. “How did you even find out it’s him? I didn’t tell you.”

“Think of why you didn’t! You usually tell me everything. As soon as you didn’t tell me, I knew something was off!” Hannah gave her a betrayed and yet at the same time accusatory look.

“Maybe I didn’t tell you because I knew how you would overreact,” Ruth shot back dryly. “How did you find out?”

“I hear lots of things at the Leaky.” Hannah shrugged. The Leaky Cauldron had been under her patronage for a number of years but she was passing it on to start her nursing program. It was one of the few places Ruth went aside from work. “Imagine my surprise when I heard not one but several people talk about how Narcissa Malfoy had been spotted at a dressmaker’s and then some woman said her and a young woman had been shopping for a wedding ensemble that had to be rush order because the wedding was in just a few days.”

“So?”

“So?! He’s done something to you to make you do this! This isn’t normal, Ruth! He’s a Death Eater, your parents were Muggle-borns! Don’t you understand?”

Ruth tried to take a deep breath but it was hard. “Harry’s already checked the necklace and myself, nothing out of the ordinary there.” She gave a piercing look to the Auror who nodded quickly.

“No dark magic, no harmful magic, nothing to affect will or conscious,” he said.

“And that’s besides the fact that Draco’s wand is restricted and monitored,” Ruth tacked on.

Hannah turned to her boyfriend who had been happy to keep quietly at the sidelines so far. “Neville, you know this isn’t right. You know something isn’t right with her.”

Neville looked like he really, really didn’t want to be there. He shot Ruth an apologetic look and shrugged his shoulders somewhat helplessly.

“This is Malfoy we’re talking about! How can you just stand there and say nothing when one of your friends is obviously being forced into something that could get her killed?!” Hannah fumed at her partner.

“Excuse me?!” Ruth couldn’t believe her ears. “Get me _killed_?!”

“You can’t honestly believe that Malfoy is going to use you as anything but his little pet Muggle-born,” Hannah scoffed and Ruth stared at the woman, wondering who this person was because this was not her friend. “When he’s done playing with you, you’ll just disappear under mysterious circumstances. I’m not going to let that happen!”

Still staring down the other woman, Ruth snapped her fingers and Neesy appeared with a soft plop a moment later. Hannah, Neville and Harry stared at the house-elf with surprise.

“Neesy, would you go and let Draco know that Auror Potter is here with Hannah and Neville Longbottom to question me about our engagement?” Ruth asked of the elf before Neesy could say anything else.

“Yes, Mistress,” Neesy promised and popped away again.

“You have a house-elf?!” Hannah shrieked, then threw her hands into the air. “Of course he gave her a house-elf, easiest way to keep tabs on someone there is! See!” She gestured towards Ruth wildly while looking at Neville.

“Draco introduced me to Neesy _after_ we got engaged, if you must know,” Ruth growled, hoping that Draco would come quickly. There was no seeing reason for Hannah and she didn’t know what else to do to convince her friend that she wasn’t being influenced to marry Draco.

Neesy reappeared then, bringing not only Draco with her but Narcissa as well. They were impeccably dressed as usual, standing out more than before against Ruth’s very simple home plus the other four who were dressed in their Sunday casuals.

“Ruth.” Draco stepped forward to stand between her and the rest of them immediately. “Are you alright?” he asked her, giving her a once-over as Narcissa came to her side and placed a reassuring hand on Ruth’s arm.

“Get away from her!” Hannah shouted, moving to extract Ruth but Draco gave her a sharp look, extending a shielding arm and standing his ground even as she was almost nose to nose with him save for the fact he was a good head taller than her.

“What seems to be the problem here, Auror Potter?” he addressed their former classmate in a formal tone, peeling his eyes from his fiancée’s enraged friend.

“Hannah believes you cursed or drugged me in order to make me marry you,” Ruth explained when it was clear that Harry wouldn’t. Coward.

“I haven’t.” Draco spoke as casually as if he was chatting about the weather.

“She knows that. Harry ran checks on me and the jewelry Narcissa gave me,” Ruth went on and Harry shifted. He damn well knew he couldn’t just come here and run checks on her without her permission like that. “Without my permission, I might add.”

Draco’s gaze sharpened. “Is that so.” Despite being a convicted former (and not very efficient) Death Eater and having spent years in prison for it, it was still clear that he knew how to command attention and that it was a dangerous game to toy with Lord Malfoy’s patience.

“There was imminent danger,” Harry tried to reason but they all knew it was bullshit.

Draco half-turned, still keeping Hannah at a distance from Ruth but now able to look at his fiancée. “Do you feel like you are in _imminent danger_, Ruth?” he asked her levelly.

“No.” Ruth gave a dark look to her friend over his shoulder. “I don’t.”

“Very well.” Draco turned back.

“Of course she won’t say anything against you now you’re here!” Hannah huffed.

“As you might recall, my fiancée _asked_ for me to be here,” he pointed out coolly. “And I believe she was very right to. You had no grounds to justify conducting such measures on her, Auror Potter.” Draco’s jaw was tight and his gaze dark, maybe even a little dangerous.

There were now two people who appeared to fight for her rights but Ruth only felt represented and protected by one of them. It wasn’t the young woman spitting acid.

“I’m sorry, Ruth,” Harry said quietly, looking directly at her.

“Whatever.” Ruth shook her head.

“I believe this is your cue to leave,” Narcissa spoke up then, leveling the others with an icy look much like her son.

“We can’t just leave now!” Hannah protested as Harry made a move towards the door. “You know this isn’t right. Harry!”

“There were no traces of dark magic nor of any other kind of relevant magic,” Harry pointed out and Draco was very satisfied with that which showed on his face and the way he stood just a little bit taller. “I’m sorry again, Ruth. If you want to file a complaint, I understand.”

“She will,” Draco assured him tightly.

“So what, you’re just gonna abandon her like that?!” Hannah raved. “Of course there aren’t traces! He’s a Death Eater, he knows how not to leave traces.”

Ruth didn’t miss how Narcissa slightly flinched at the term but Draco seemed unperturbed by both the accusation as well as the term.

“So you are saying Auror Potter is incompetent,” he drawled, giving Hannah a condescending look.

Hannah spluttered. “No, of course not, I just-“

“Then I believe your accusations have been proven groundless, Mrs. Longbottom,” he cut her off.

“You _have_ done something to her, I know it! You have done something to her to make her marry you – she would never marry you!” Hannah insisted.

“I believe the ring she accepted as sign of my proposal proves she intends to,” Draco pointed out, seeming bored now. “And the absence of proof she has been coerced, leaves only the option that she is doing it out of her own, free will.”

“As if she’s in a state to make decisions like that. That’s why you chose her, didn’t you? Because she’s an easy target,” came out of Hannah’s mouth next and Ruth blinked. “Someone like her is easy to influence, right? Don’t even need to use magic for it at all. A woman who can’t leave the house because she’s too scared of the world, who doesn’t have any friends, who has no family, who’s so depressed some days she can’t even get out of bed. She’s not even that pretty, not someone any man would look twice for. Someone like that is easy to manipulate, especially for someone of your likes!” Hannah eyed him with disgust.

Ruth’s face burned as Hannah spoke about her like that, hot tears gathering in her eyes. Hannah was really the only person who knew the extend of her struggles, the only person who’d been there through it all, through the worst days, who had wrestled her into the shower more times than she could count, who had brought her food, who had sat with her while she dozed when Ruth didn’t feel like talking. Someone who knew her deepest struggles, her deepest insecurities. Someone who had now aired them out for everyone else to hear.

“You have no right,” she tried to get out but it came out much more quietly and hoarsely than she wished. “You have no right to come here and say all these things about Draco and about me. You’ve never even asked me why I’m doing this!”

Hannah at last had the decency to look slightly guilty.

“I _want_ to do this. I want to marry Draco and you have no right to come here and-“

“It’s Daisy.”  
  


No one had paid much attention to Neville for a while and now he had the final draft of the agreement in his hands. Ruth froze at the mention of her sister’s name and everyone’s heads snapped towards the young man.

“That is private,” Ruth snarled, trying to retrieve the document but Neville passed the papers on to Harry before she could get to them.

“A contract of premarital agreement? Of course you would. Gotta protect your precious galleons, don’t you?” Hannah scoffed at Draco after seeing the heading as Harry skimmed the pages.

“I believe you will find that this agreement is indeed private and none of you have any business sticking your noses into our confidential affairs,” Draco tried to gain back control, ripping the papers out of the Auror’s hands but it was too late.

“Oh Ruth.” Suddenly there was pity on Hannah’s face and Ruth felt her face burn even more than before at her tone. “Daisy wouldn’t want you to sell yourself just so she’d be more comfortable. Don’t do this.”

“You don’t know anything,” Ruth said but again she couldn’t speak as strongly and confidently as she desperately wished she could have.

“Daisy is fine, you don’t have to do this. She’s okay just the way she is,” Hannah tried to reassure her but Ruth shook her head sharply.

“My sister is not _okay_ or _fine_, she hasn’t been since that sick fuck cast that curse on her,” she ground out, feeling hot tears gather in her eyes. “And I’m not doing this just for her. I _want_ to do this.” It was true, too. While she had been trying on different dresses with Narcissa, she had found that she hadn’t only grown used to the idea of marrying Draco, she wanted to do it too.

“Why in Godric’s name would you want to marry _him_? Ruth! He’s a Death Eater! You’re selling yourself to a Death Eater!” Hannah finally did round Draco, grasping her friend by the shoulders and shaking her slightly.

“A _former_ Death Eater,” Ruth pointed out quietly but firmly and removed Hannah’s hands from her body.

“To hell with that, what does that matter? He’s a pureblood, you’ll be his little pet Muggle-born and when he’s finished with you, he’ll get rid of you!” Hannah pleaded with her.

“He won’t.” Ruth shook her head. “I can divorce him when I want to.”

“Then why marry him in the first place?” Hannah questioned desperately. “You don’t have to do this, Ruthie. You’re not in the right state to make a decision like that. Please.”

“Right,” Ruth spat out bitterly, “because I’m just a mentally ill woman who can’t leave the house because she’s scared of the world, who doesn’t have any friends nor family, who isn’t pretty enough for any man to want her, right?” She gave her friend a look full of pain and betrayal. Hannah’s words had cut her to the core and revealed to her what the woman she had considered her friend truly thought of her.

“I didn’t mean-“

Ruth silenced her with a quick wave of her hand. “I couldn’t possibly choose to find a little purpose in my pathetic little life, even if it’s as the wife of a former Death Eater, could I? I couldn’t possibly choose to turn my back on endless days alone, only leaving my home to go to work. I work as a waitress which some people may like but I hate it. I hate every second of it but I had to support myself somehow. I couldn’t possibly want to do something that will not only help my sister but also might help me. My existence is just that pitiful and pathetic that I’ll agree to marry a blood supremacist who wanted to kill people like me five years ago because otherwise my life is so sad and lonely. Right.”

The words hung in the air and Ruth could feel herself shaking. Now it was all out there. All of her struggles, all of the truth about her sad excuse for a life. Draco had shoved his way into her life in a less than voluntary manner but he had given her a chance, unknowingly but he had. A chance to change something. She didn’t know if that change was going to be good but it didn’t matter. It was better than this.

“Ruth…” Hannah gaped at her friend and Ruth could see all the pity and the horror. She raised her chin, calling on the dignity she had none of left.

“Neesy, I would like to leave now,” Ruth addressed the house-elf who had taken to hiding under the table as the situation started escalating. Neesy came to her side immediately, took her hand and with a twisting sensation, Ruth was whisked away from her home.

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter summary:
> 
> Harry unofficially visits Ruth as an Auror at Hannah’s request, to check whether Draco has coerced her into marrying him by cursing her and/or drugging her. Just after he finds no evidence for either, Hannah and Neville burst in. Hannah spouts many accusations about Draco cursing/drugging her as well as using her as a plaything which Ruth disputes. She also claims that Ruth isn’t in a state of mind to make a decision like marrying someone.
> 
> When Ruth has reached her limit upon Hannah claiming Draco will kill her after he is finished with his “pet Muggle-born”, she calls for Neesy to bring Draco. Draco comes with Narcissa and tries to dissolve the situation to which Hannah repeats her earlier claims. She accuses Draco of choosing Ruth because she is mentally unstable and thus an easy target (rarely leaves the house because she is scared, depressed, no friends and family, not that pretty). Ruth feels ashamed and betrayed, the woman she trusted revealing her circumstances to the others so blatantly.
> 
> Neville then finds the marriage contract and alerts everyone to the main factor being Daisy (indefinite care). Pitied by Hannah for “selling herself” on behalf of her sister, Ruth admits that marrying Draco is at least some kind of change and that of course her life is so “pitiful, pathetic, sad and lonely” (in her friend’s eyes) that she can’t possibly choose to do something with it. She asks Neesy to take her away and the elf does.


	7. Appreciation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left a kudo and/or a comment!  
It makes me so happy to know that you are enjoying the story, both for the content and for the pairing. I was pretty unsure on how an OFC pairing would do in a fandom that has so many popular pairings with canon characters.  
Here comes the update I wanted to have out before my big travels but it didn't work out. Hope you enjoy!

~*~*~*~

The room where Neesy plopped them back into existence was a kind of reception room, Ruth guessed. A spacious room with white accented, teal walls and large windows with a geometric frame pattern. At the center was a group of sofas, gathered around the fireplace. The walls had built in glass cabinets behind which a vast collection of books were sheltered. At first glance, Ruth could see at least six of those cabinets so maybe this was a reading room or something.

“Mistress beings upset, takings seat. Neesy will beings bringing tea and biscuits. Tea and biscuits always makings things better!” Neesy ushered her to sit on one of the plush sofas, the fabric just a few shades darker than the walls. Everything here fit together, dark woods with shades of teal, contrasting with white. She had never been in a room this fancy and elegant.

There was noise outside the room then, undoubtedly Draco and Narcissa following shortly after her. Ruth heard a loud voice, Draco’s loud voice, and Neesy vanished, leaving Ruth to sit on the sofa, staring unseeingly off into space.

When she blinked, suddenly Draco was in front of her, dropping to a knee without hesitation, taking her hands into his. It was the contrast of his warm hands that made her aware how icy cold her own were. He looked at her and his lips moved but she was struggling to process the sounds into words. He squeezed her hands and brought one to his neck in a familiar move. She closed her eyes as he positioned her fingertips at his pulse once more.

Her world minimized to the warm and steady beat of his heart and with every pulse against her fingertips, she could feel the tightness in her chest starting to loosen. She didn’t need to count her breaths this time but it did feel like every beat was releasing the iron fist that had curled around her lungs.

“I’m sorry,” came out of her mouth and before she heard her own voice, she hadn’t been aware of the words forming.

“You have done nothing wrong,” Draco told her and straightened slightly, not removing her hands though, not standing up.

“Hannah could have gotten you into a lot of trouble.” She met his eyes worriedly. If Hannah hadn’t gone to Harry first but another Auror… Someone else may not have done her the courtesy of coming to her first instead of opening a proper investigation right away. And an investigation like that couldn’t be good on someone who was on lifelong probation, right?

Draco didn’t say anything to that which was as good as agreement as she was going to get.

“You should file a complaint against Potter,” he advised her and stood when she slowly pulled her hand from his neck. “He had no right to do that.”

“He was just trying to help a friend.” Ruth rubbed her hands over her thighs, noting how she was in a pair of leggings and a t-shirt. She probably looked just as out of place as she felt. She would need Narcissa’s help with her wardrobe again, after the wedding. Leggings and a t-shirt weren’t much fitting with these kinds of surroundings.

“Probably couldn’t prove it anyway. Though it would be like the pompous arse to admit to his failures readily out of guilt and misplaced duty,” Draco snarled and paced a few steps.

“Draco,” Narcissa called to him quietly, rounding the sofas to come to Ruth’s side.

Draco silenced immediately and watched his mother sit next to his fiancée, waving for Neesy to bring the tea and biscuits. More shortbread.

“Take a few sips, dear,” Narcissa encouraged the young woman and Ruth did as told. The warm liquid flowed down her throat and warmed her from the inside while the cup warmed her hands around it. “I’m afraid your rooms are not quite finished, Ruth-Anne. I’ve made sure to modernize them somewhat but I forgot to ask your wishes yesterday. Colors, styles, designs, and such.”

“Whatever you chose is fine, I don’t really have a taste,” Ruth replied slowly, still feeling quite detached from the present.

Narcissa’s lips thinned. Having been to the place Ruth called her home, a single, crammed room housing not only the bed but also the kitchen, she could imagine that in such a setting, having personal taste was difficult. She exchanged a look with her son.

“Then we will find out together what you like,” she suggested and Ruth nodded mechanically. “Neesy.”

“Yes, Mistress Cissa.” Neesy stood by the corner of the sofa.

“Make sure the bed in Ruth-Anne’s room has fresh linens. We will be there shortly.”

Neesy gave a nod and disappeared.

“Get some rest, dear. We can figure out everything else later,” Narcissa told the young woman at her side and helped her stand.

Ruth’s eyes went and found Draco’s, light brown meeting gray. She swallowed.

“I understand if you don’t want to- if you want to cancel,” she said softly, feeling how Narcissa’s light, guiding grip on her forearm tightened.

“This,” he picked up her left hand, “is staying where it is.” He pressed a kiss to her knuckles just beside where the engagement ring sat. “Take some rest. Everything else can wait until later. Rest assured that everything will remain as you want it.”

She nodded weakly, squeezing his hand as he hadn’t let go of hers just yet. “Thank you.”

“Oh, I should be thanking you,” he replied, lips curling into a slight smile. “After all, you are doing me a favor.” He even added the smallest of winks.

“I suppose so,” she allowed and his smile became a little deeper.

“I’ll show you to your rooms,” Narcissa cut in then, draping Ruth’s hand around her own arm and leading her through the doors.

~*~*~*~

Before she had slid between the sheets of the biggest bed she had ever slept in, Ruth hadn’t take much note of the room Narcissa had brought her to. But when she awoke, she did.

The first thing she took note of were the dark, heavy curtains keeping out the daylight. Willing her heart not to jump out of her chest, she waved her hand, calling “Lumos!” quickly. Relief flooded her when some lights went on despite her wand being at her flat.

In the light of the lamps, it quickly became obvious that this bedroom alone was easily the size of half the floor of Ruth’s flat’s building. It had to be, the bed as the center piece was enormous. She was able to stretch out her limbs to as far as they would go and still she did not touch the edges of the bed on any side. The mattress was heavenly, undoubtedly charmed to support the sleeper perfectly. The pillows were soft yet firm and the bed sheets smelled fresh.

The curtains were keeping the daylight out through windows on two sides of the room, it appeared. The bed was to the left of the door she had entered through and on the right side, there were two more doors as well as a dressing table with a large, elaborate mirror and a chair in the corner. Opposite the bed and the main door, under the windows, were two armchairs with a small table between them.

Somehow, Ruth could tell what Narcissa had meant with having modernized the room somewhat but it not being finished. The furniture matched in color and style and fit in well with the floral design of the walls and curtains but the room didn’t feel lived-in at all. These quarters didn’t seem to have been used in some time.

“Mistress is beings awake!” Neesy popped up at the side of the bed, startling Ruth slightly.

“I am,” she said slowly. “What time is it?”

“It’s beings almost dinner time,” Neesy answered. “Does Mistress being feeling like eatings dinner in the dining room? Neesy can beings bringing dinner here too!”

“Are Draco and Narcissa having dinner in the dining room?”

Neesy nodded.

“So will I,” she decided and slid from under the sheets, her feet meeting plush carpet on the floor. Thank God, she thought, she hated cold hardwood floors. The carpet surrounding the bed matched the curtains, of course. She dug her toes into the soft fibers, now noticing that she was still in her leggings and t-shirt. “Neesy, I don’t have anything to wear!” She couldn’t go for dinner in the dining room looking like this!

“Master Draco has telling Neesy and Pospy to bringing Mistress’ things from her room,” Neesy supplied helpfully and opened one of the two doors on the other side of the bed from where she was standing with a wave of her little hand. “All beings in the dressing room.”

Ruth followed and indeed, all of her clothes were neatly hung in the small room – well, small compared to the bedroom. This dressing room easily made the size of her flat. There were also boxes which Ruth assumed contained the rest of her belongings. There weren’t many.

“Thank you, Neesy. Is the bathroom the other door?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Neesy led her to the other door which opened into the biggest, most lavish bathroom Ruth had ever seen. It was so big that it easily housed not only a shower cubicle but also a large, clawfooted bathtub as well as a wide, marble counter with the sink in the middle of it. The pièce de résistance was definitely the extra arm chair under the window. A bathroom that had space for its own arm chair. Ruth felt more than a little overwhelmed.

“Thank you,” she told Neesy once more. “I’ll, uh, freshen up and call you again so you can take me down to dinner?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Neesy nodded and disappeared.

It took Ruth a while to figure out how this new bathroom worked but she was relieved to find that despite its vacancy, everything was working and bathroom items smelling of lavender were provided. The shower was divine and she let the hot water run over her body until she felt the warmth right to her core.

After the shower came the problems though. First of all, there were her clothes. She hadn’t worn anything other than jeans and shirts in years, she didn’t even own a dress anymore. The best she could do was the nicest pair of jeans she had with the most dressy top she had, a pale blue, wrap kind of blouse that flowed over her hips to the middle of her thighs. She wore sandals with the outfit, doubting that people went barefooted or even on socks in this house.

And then there was the question of her hair. There wasn’t a blow dryer in sight. As a matter of fact, there wasn’t even an electric socket to be found anywhere.

“Neesy,” she called after having exhausted her surroundings as well as her energy.

“Is Mistress beings ready for dinner?” Neesy asked cheerfully as she appeared.

“Not quite. Uhm, how do I dry my hair? I’ve only used Muggle means to do my hair in the recent years.” Or ever, really. Growing up, they had used magic for a number of things but mainly to make Muggle things more effective or quicker.

“Oh, I can beings doing Mistress’ hair!” Neesy offered happily and maneuvered Ruth out of the bathroom and into the chair by the dressing table in the bedroom. Ruth sat down and Neesy summoned a stool, hopping onto it to be able to reach Ruth’s head and hair. One of the drawers of the dressing table revealed several different brushes and combs and Neesy got to work. “How does Mistress likings her hair?”

“Uhm.” Ruth watched Neesy brush her hair through the mirror. “I like braids?” she offered hesitantly. “I usually wear it in a French braid.”

“Oh, Neesy can beings doing braids,” Neesy assured her and started separating her mistress’ brown hair into strands.

Even as she watched closely, Ruth was unable to really see what exactly Neesy was doing with her hair. She was so fast and precise, there had to be elf magic involved. The result was a French braid in general but one with braided strands intertwined in particular. It was easily the most intricate hairdo Ruth had ever had.

“It’s beautiful, Neesy, thank you.”

Neesy shied from the praise a little and quickly ushered Ruth to dinner.

Neesy brought them to a hallway that was different from the ones Narcissa had led her through. From her rooms alone, Ruth knew that Malfoy Manor was massive and the walk from Narcissa’s wing to her own had only solidified that impression. Feeling plenty overwhelmed already, Ruth had asked Neesy to apparate them to dinner which Neesy had done without further question.

Now they were in front of double doors in a lit hallway that extended into shadowy corners in the distance. Ruth swallowed, resolution already forming in her head that she was going to ask Neesy to apparate her many places in this house to avoid those corners.

From behind the double doors that apparently led to the dining room, she could hear voices. Loud voices. The loud voices of Draco and Narcissa and although she couldn’t understand what they were saying, it was clear that they were arguing. She swallowed.

Neesy reached a hand to one of the doors and it opened. The voices stopped immediately.

The doors opened to reveal a dining room large enough for a table that seated eight people, one wall dominated by a large fireplace. Ruth had no doubt that this manor had at least one other dining room to seat many more people. This one seemed almost small in that way.

Draco and his mother were standing at one end of the table, him behind the chair at the head of the table, Narcissa to the right. Although they tried to school their faces, it was obvious that they had just disagreed. Narcissa turned to Ruth first but not before giving her son a meaningful look.

“Ruth-Anne.” Narcissa offered a smile and reached out a hand towards the young woman, inviting her to come closer. “I hope you rested well, dear,” she said as her eyes swept down Ruth’s body and Ruth swallowed again, feeling very out of place in her outfit. Narcissa, of course, was elegantly dressed in a long, gray dress, the sleeves ending just under her elbows.

“The bed was heavenly, thank you,” Ruth replied shyly and rounded the head of the table as Draco pulled out the chair to his left for her. She sat down and he pushed it in before sitting down himself.

“Wonderful. What do you think about the interior?” Narcissa went on seamlessly as the house-elves, ones Ruth hadn’t seen yet, started serving drinks and food. A soup as a starter, Ruth deduced, quickly taking in the place setting with several pieces of cutlery. Outside in, she reminded herself and waited until Narcissa had started to pick up her own spoon.

“Uhm, it’s very floral,” Ruth offered hesitantly.

“It is, isn’t it,” Narcissa agreed with a thoughtful smile. “I take it floral is not to your tastes then. Well, we will find something else. What is your favorite color, dear?”

Ruth glanced at Draco but he seemed perfectly happy to spoon soup into his mouth and stay out of interior design questions.

“I guess you could say I like soft colors, pastels maybe. Yellow, green, blue, I think,” she offered slowly. Did she have a favorite color? She wasn’t really sure. She didn’t like strong colors though, ones that got in your face. Understated, maybe.

“That is something we can work with.” Narcissa seemed satisfied. “I will collect some samples and show them to you.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, dear. This is your home now.” Narcissa gave her a short smile and both of them pretended that it wasn’t somewhat lopsided.

At the end of dinner, Ruth still felt the turmoil of the day’s events, and of the last week, but she also felt something new. She felt appreciation. Hannah’s criticism was still in the back of her head where it would remain for a long time but what she herself thought was also true. Draco was giving her a chance and with that chance had come a man who appeared set on treating her respectfully as well as a mother-in-law whose love for her son extended into support and kindness towards Ruth. She appreciated that, even if that corner of her mind questioned how long it would stay this way and whether all of this would drastically change the moment she was legally bound to Draco.

Most of all, she appreciated Narcissa for her soon-to-be mother-in-law’s openness for and acceptance of her son’s endeavors. It was clear that Narcissa didn’t fully understand her son’s motives nor agreed with them, but she was able to push all of that aside in favor of unerringly supporting her son and through that, supporting Ruth. Ruth remembered Narcissa’s face when the older woman had taken in the full extend of her studio flat and she remembered a little twitch here and there when they’d had tea, talking about Ruth. But here she was, having dinner with them and expertly drawing out details and opinions from Ruth that Ruth herself hadn’t even known she had. Granted, all of it was carefully limited to the topic of interior design but if Narcissa truly had minded Ruth moving in, she would have left the rooms as they had been even before the floral explosion.

Now Ruth had learned that she did like a bit of contrast in her room, for example dark furniture against lighter wall colors. She also found that in the range of pastels, she preferred green and a bit of yellow. A spacious feel to the arrangement of the room and lots of preferably natural light mattered as well. All of which she hadn’t been aware of before dinner but Narcissa easily guided her into discovering.

Something that Ruth also appreciated was that Narcissa still had her own head which showed when they started discussing the wedding celebration Ruth had agreed to – and Draco wholeheartedly opposed. However, he had brought upon himself the possibility to be outvoted by adding a third person to his family and Ruth and Narcissa cheerfully did so. His expression reminded Ruth of their Hogwarts days though he did his best not to blatantly sulk as he once had.

In the process of talking about the event, Ruth learned that several parts of Malfoy Manor seemed to have been renovated, restructured and even demolished before being rebuilt. One part appeared to have been the drawing room which was now in a different wing, as Narcissa said, and much more pleasant. Ruth’s imagination was still active enough to supply many ideas for how such a drawing room, which sounded like the biggest room in the manor, could have been used previously. Demolishing and rebuilding probably was the best that could have been done.

The new drawing room would be able to house a number of guests and when Ruth heard that number, she almost choked on the excellent Sunday roast.

“I’m sorry, did you say a hundred guests?” she asked after coughing and taking a few sips of water. She shot a look to Draco but the one she got back continued to express his absolute contentment with staying out of the discussion. There was also a hint of ‘you brought this upon yourself’ if she wasn’t mistaken.

“Up to a hundred, dear,” Narcissa confirmed. “It really depends on who you wish to invite.”

Ruth examined her plate for a few moments. “How many will you invite?” she asked Draco directly who didn’t seem any happier at being verbally addressed now.

“It depends where we decide to cut off,” he answered evasively. “There are many we are related to by some extend.”

Right. The Sacred 28. The very group he was removing his family from the moment he married her. Maybe it wasn’t so much a question of who they would invite but more a question of who would even attend the celebration of a marriage between a pureblood and the daughter of Muggle-borns.

“Maybe it is best if we don’t have a celebration,” Ruth said quietly. After this morning she wasn’t sure anyone would accept her invitation and if no one would on Draco’s side either then what was the point of putting it on at all? It would just be an embarrassment.

“Why not?” Draco’s pale eyes bored into her now.

“I…” She swallowed. “After today I am not sure anyone would attend on my behalf and…” She glanced between him and Narcissa. “I guess they are not going to be the only ones that object to our union,” she expressed as diplomatically as she could but it was clear to both Malfoys what she meant, she was sure of that.

“Which is why we are going to have it,” Draco decided determinedly. “I am not ashamed of my wife and I will not hide her away because some people don’t approve.” He gave a very significant look to his mother.

Narcissa’s face transformed into a small smile that Ruth did not understand until she spoke. “See, Ruth-Anne, I told you we would talk him around.”

Draco let out a huff while Ruth tried to muffle a laugh. He might have liked to think he was the head of the house now but Narcissa still had her ways to get him, and her, exactly where she wanted them.

“Ruth-Anne and I have decided on a champagne gown with gold accents, as the groom you should choose your wardrobe accordingly,” Narcissa adapted seamlessly and Draco just sighed.

“Yes, Mother.”

“Now, Ruth-Anne, last time we spoke we had not yet settled on a few important details like décor as well as the menu…”

~*~*~*~


	8. Assistance in personal matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To my readers here as well - Happy New Year! Hope you had a nice start into the new year and decade, however that looked for you. (I myself spent it with lots of lazing about as well as some writing.)  
The coming weekend is a traveling one for me again, the way back home, so we will see when the next chapter will come. As of five minutes ago, I finished Chapter 10. If you would like, I'd be very glad if you could head over and check out my other story that I recently started posting. It's called [Family Matters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21629203/chapters/51576106) and is, broadly speaking, a Weasle family story (another OFC pairing one, although the particular Weasley half of the pairing has not been disclosed yet).  
For the chapter content: I’m not sure this qualifies a content warning because it is in the tags (under the umbrella of depression) and I believe in heeding those but Ruth experiences what I call a ‘slow day’ or fatigue and lethargy due to what happened in the previous chapters. It’s after the first divider within the chapter.

~*~*~*~

Dinner hat been delicious and the company unexpectedly good but as it was drawing to a close, Ruth wondered what would happen afterwards. She still felt exhausted and although talking to Narcissa and Draco had been good, it did take energy to partake in it. On the other hand, the thought of returning to her new bedroom, alone, in a house she didn’t know more than three rooms of, a house she didn’t even know the location of, surrounded by vast gardens she had caught a glimpse of through the windows earlier-

“Ruth, would you feel up to having an evening cup of tea with me? I understand if you prefer to explore your rooms or rest.” Draco stood at the side of her chair, ready to pull it out for her again.

It took her a moment to get back to the present moment. Narcissa was standing already and two house-elves were clearing the table. Neesy was standing a few steps behind Draco also waiting on her.

“Uhm.” Ruth swallowed and let Draco pull out the chair for her, standing slowly. “Tea sounds nice.”

“Very well.” He offered her his arm and she wrapped tucked hers around it. “Good night, Mother,” he addressed Narcissa who returned the sentiment.

“I’ll see you both in the morning. Good night,” she said and left the room.

“You may have seen the doors to my rooms already, they are just across the hall from yours.” Draco led her out of the room and down the hallways. Lamps lit up and went out way ahead and behind them but the dark corners still lurked. She was glad to be able to hold onto his arm, keeping her connected to reality.

“I didn’t really pay attention earlier,” she confessed and he nodded shortly. “Neesy apparated me down to dinner.” He looked at her for a moment but said nothing. “I, uh…”

“Let us sit down first,” he suggested and she nodded quickly.

It was some walk from the dining room back to their wing which passed in a somewhat anticipatory but also weirdly calm mood between them. He led her through a door which indeed was just across from the one Ruth now remembered having accessed her own rooms through.

The layout seemed similar yet Draco’s rooms, or room as this was just the… Ruth really didn’t know what to call all these rooms. It was kind of his own, private living room or reception room or… salon, parlor, whatever. Parlor sounded fancy enough, right? His parlor was elaborate and tasteful with a complete absence of any serpents or house colors as some people would probably have believed. The furniture was made of dark wood that was beautifully carved and contrasted pleasantly with the cream fabrics and walls. There was another fireplace in front of which two sofas were facing each other. On one side of the fireplace there was another inset cabinet with books, the door on the other side probably led to his other rooms.

A different house-elf brought a tea tray and put it on the coffee table, then disappeared at Draco’s nod. Draco gestured for Ruth to sit so she chose the sofa closest to her and sat down. He took a seat on the sofa across from her.

“I prefer tea without caffeine in the evening. This is lemon balm but I can have any other tea you’d like brought for you,” he explained, picking up the tea pot and pouring one cup.

“Lemon balm is fine.” He filled another cup and arranged it so it was closer to her.

“Pastel green, yes?” He took a sip of his tea and eyed her over the rim of the cup.

Ruth let out a snort of sorts and picked up her own cup. “Apparently so.” If she saw correctly, he was hiding a small quirk of his lips behind his tea.

“I’m sure Mother will not relent until your rooms are perfectly arranged in pastel green with dark furniture and floor to ceiling windows.” He was making fun of her a little, and his mother, but what he was describing actually sounded very nice.

She nodded softly and took a sip herself. The taste was soothing as was the warmth.

For a few moments they sat in silence, drinking their tea. There were too many things twirling around in her head and dancing on the tip of her tongue as that she could have chosen one to begin a conversation. Also, none of them seemed appropriate to begin a conversation with.

“Ruth.” Draco put down his cup and she instantly knew they were down to business now. She placed down her cup as well and sat up straight. “Salazar, would you relax? This isn’t…” He shook his head, trailing off. “Are you well?” he asked and then shook his head again, quite sharply. “Forgive me, a stupid question. Allow me to reword it: how are you doing?”

Ruth swallowed and smoothed her hands down her thighs. “I understand if you-“

“I stand by my word,” he cut her off. “I simply… Are you…” He looked a little torn. “Mother and I are receiving _assistance_ in a few _personal_ matters. It could be arranged for you as well. Unless you are already receiving assistance or do not wish to.”

Ruth blinked. Assistance in personal matters. Narcissa and Draco. Assistance in personal matters. What personal mat- He was talking about therapy. _Assistance with personal matters_. Personal matters of the mind. She found herself surprised at that and then inwardly sighed at herself. This family had already shown her that many things were different from what people expected or thought and that he freely told her he was receiving therapy to deal with… There surely was a lot to process, being him. Four months out from Azkaban after a five-year-sentence, everything that had happened during the war, probably a whole lot of shit even before that. Maybe, if he was aware, if he allowed himself to search himself that deeply, there was also a lot of familial and generational tangle to unravel. It shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was.

“I received assistance for a while but not in a number of years,” she told him quietly and picked up her tea again.

“May I ask why not? I understand it is a personal choice whether to seek or receive it at all.”

He was so stilted about things. She remembered their discussions about the marriage contract. More than once she had marveled at his vocabulary and diction which also more than once had taken her a few moments to dismantle into something she understood.

“I was rated as class 2 so I received assistance for a year. I was prescribed some more a little later but not since.”

Draco’s facial expression didn’t change but Ruth had already learned that it was all in the eyes with him. And now they were turning stormy.

“Rated as class 2?” he repeated slowly. “What does that mean?”

Ruth shrugged. “Loads of people needed assistance after the war. Too many people, so they had a system of assessing and rating the needs of each person, ranging from 1 to 5. 1 being the lowest and generally just a few sessions for short-term alleviation. 2 was anywhere between that and a year. 3 and 4 were more extensive and 5 indeterminate. Anything beyond your grade you had to pay yourself.”

Draco’s eyes had gone from stormy to icy. “St. Mungo’s is a farce,” slipped out of his mouth and she could see he hadn’t intended to say it out loud. She gave another shrug.

“You can’t just conjure up mind-healers and the likes just because the demand is suddenly high. They had to deal with it somehow.”

“By releasing you into the world while you are still unable to navigate it?” he all but shouted and her gaze fell to her knees. “Ruth, forgive me. I shouldn’t have shouted.” She refused to look up but she heard him shift on his seat then sigh. “The healers we are employing, they are private and available to any member of the family.”

She nodded weakly. Just another privilege bestowed upon her for fulfilling a favor. Would the list ever end? Would she ever stop feeling indebted to him?

“A probatory appointment can be arranged if you would like. With either of them, or others altogether. My mother and I see different ones for… impartiality reasons.”

She nodded again.

“If you wish, we can delay until you have had the appointment or until any other date you prefer.”

Finally she looked up. “I already told you I don’t want to cancel or reschedule.”

“No, you said you understood if _I_ wanted to,” he replied with a bit of a smart-alecky tone and a twinkle in his eyes. He grinned when she simply rolled her eyes.

“I would like an appointment,” she said then. “May it be… also possible to reschedule my general check-up with one of your healers?” Draco had asked her to have a general check-up close to the wedding but not necessarily before it. He’d said it was to make sure everything was in order for…

“Of course.” He gave a short nod. “I will arrange everything.”

“Thank you.”

For a moment he just looked at her. “You are tired, I will escort you to your rooms.” He stood up and rounded the coffee table, offering his arm again.

“They are literally across the hall,” Ruth pointed out but stood herself and accepted his arm.

Draco didn’t respond while he led her through his door and five steps across the hallway to her door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning for breakfast if you feel up to it,” he told her and released her arm. “I believe Mother will want to finalize the last details for the ceremony as well as get a head-start on your rooms.”

“Sounds like a busy day,” she chuckled.

He eyed her with a serious expression on his face. “Take rest whenever you need to, Ruth.” It wasn’t clear whether it was advice, a plea or an instruction but his look seemed to impress its importance on her.

“I will,” she promised quietly and put her hand on the door handle. It started to open without her turning it. Magic was just so convenient sometimes. She was sure this house could do endless things for her and she was looking forward to finding them out. “Good night, Draco.”

“Good night, Ruth.” He gave her a nod but didn’t turn to leave. Only when Ruth had stepped into her _parlor_ and the door had closed at a wave of her hand, did she hear his steps going back to his own rooms.

~*~*~*~

“Mistress is beings awakes!”

Ruth snapped into focus and saw Neesy standing in the same spot as the day before. She blinked slowly. “Good morning, Neesy,” she said slowly.

“Good mornings!” Neesy replied cheerfully and with a snap of her fingers, the floral curtains opened to let in the morning light, replacing the light of the lamps that Ruth had had on all night. The different, brighter light made her squint. “Breakfasts is beings servings in 30 minutes.”

“Thank you, Neesy,” Ruth responded after a few moments. “Could I have some tea already?”

“Of course, Mistress,” was the answer and Neesy popped away.

Ruth startled when she returned with a steaming cup of tea in the same very fine porcelain that Draco had had last night.

“Thank you,” Ruth mumbled belatedly when Neesy was already across the room, bustling about. “Can you come back when it’s time for breakfast?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Gone she was again, leaving Ruth alone.

Breakfast was soon so she would have to get out of bed. But first a few sips of tea to help her wake up. Exhaling deeply she scooted over to the side of the bed and picked up both saucer and cup from the bedside table. Holding the cup in one hand and the saucer in the other made her feel fancy as she took a sip of the perfectly prepared brew.

She had only taken a few sips when Neesy reappeared.

“Mistress is not beings dressings!” Neesy gasped, seeing her mistress still sitting up in the bed just like she had left her.

Ruth blinked. “Is it… is it time for breakfast already?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Neesy answered earnestly.

“Huh. I…” She looked down at the cup and the saucer in her hand and quickly took another sip only to find the tea lukewarm at best. She blinked again. “I’m sorry, I… Will you tell Narcissa and Draco I will hurry to get ready? I’ll call you when I am.”

Neesy nodded and left.

Carefully Ruth set the saucer and the cup back onto the bedside table and slowly slid her legs over the edge of the mattress. The carpet felt just as plush as it had the day before.

“Get ready,” she whispered to herself and told herself to stand. Her legs didn’t move. She let out a deep sigh and gave it a few more tries until her body finally lifted itself up.

Now that she was standing it was easier to move so she walked around the bed and into the dressing room. Seeing all of her clothes hanging up presented her with the same problem from the night before. She had no clothes suited for these surroundings.

“Mistress?” Neesy’s call sounded a lot quieter than earlier and she stood there almost hesitantly.

“Oh, I…” Ruth blinked. Clothes. Right. She needed clothes, she had to go to breakfast. How late was she? Very late probably since Neesy had come back without calling for her.

“Mistress beings havings cold feet,” Neesy noted and procured a pair of thick and cozy woolen socks from somewhere. Ruth lifted her feet slowly, first the left then the right, while holding onto one of the frames of the inbuilt wardrobe elements. “Neesy comings back quick.”

“Okay,” Ruth responded with enough delay that Neesy was already gone when she said it.

Clothes. She needed clothes. For breakfast. But she only had jeans and t-shirts and hoodies and none of it fit into this manor. She closed her eyes for a moment.

“Ruth-Anne?” A hand softly grasped around her elbow. She opened her eyes.

“Narcissa. I’m so sorry, I’m so late! You’re all waiting for me, I-“

“Not to worry, dear,” the older woman assured her. “Come along.” Gently she guided Ruth from the dressing room back to the bed. Neesy pulled back the bedding and Ruth mechanically and heavily sat on the edge of the mattress again. Hadn’t she just worked so hard to get up from it?

“But breakfast-“ she started to protest when Narcissa helped her lift her feet onto the mattress so that she was sitting up against the pillows again. She had just been right here not long ago, hadn’t she?

“Breakfast will be brought to you today. A little special welcome for our newest resident,” Narcissa told her with a calming smile.

“Oh. Okay.” Ruth pulled the duvet up to her chest, feeling cold.

“It might be a moment, dear, why don’t you close your eyes for a bit and we’ll have it here right for you,” Narcissa suggested.

“Yeah,” Ruth agreed and closed her eyes.

The room was dark when she woke, now lying down.

“LUMOS!” she shouted and pressed back into the pillows, hastily sitting up. The room filled with light. She breathed. And again. And again.

“Mistress is beings wakings,” Neesy said quietly, coming to stand by the bedside table and eyeing her carefully.

“Yes,” Ruth nodded and swallowed tickly. “I… Would you mind opening the curtains, Neesy?”

A wave of an elvish hand later the curtains were open. Sunlight streamed through and Ruth sank back into the pillows a little.

“What time is it?”

“It is beings nearly twelve o’clocks, Mistress.”

Ruth nodded and let out a deep breath. She remembered the morning, she remembered feeling slow and heavy and not being able to get up and get dressed and then Narcissa coming. She still felt slow and heavy but less than before. A few hours of sleep made a difference.

“Please call Narcissa for me and if you could bring me something light for a late breakfast as well as some tea, please,” Ruth requested and Neesy nodded immediately before leaving. If Ruth was not mistaken, the little elf had seemed to brighten at hearing her mistress speak now, Ruth could only imagine how she must have appeared to the elf earlier.

Narcissa came minutes later just as Neesy brought a lap tray with tea and a plate of toast and eggs. Ruth opened her mouth, feeling sheepish and a little embarrassed but Narcissa spoke before she could.

“Please, do not apologize, dear,” she told the younger woman in a soft tone that didn’t make Ruth feel any less embarrassed or guilty. “How are you feeling?” Narcissa summoned one of the chairs from the window so she could sit next to the bed.

“A little better.” Ruth nodded quickly and took a few sips of tea.

“Good. Yesterday was a lot and one does have a response to that, don’t we.” Narcissa gave her a look full of understanding that had Ruth fighting tears. “Draco has contacted his healer who will arrive this afternoon.”

Ruth nodded, feeling in parts still embarrassed for feeling so bad but also relieved that help was soon approaching. She would never be able to express to Draco how it had felt to hear him appalled at the lack of assistance she had received but most of all to be given the opportunity to receive some more now. She longed to feel like herself again, to have some energy back. Perhaps to be able to visit the gardens outside someday. But she would make do with her bedroom for now, and her parlor, and Draco’s parlor, and the dining room.

“May I recommend something, Ruth-Anne?”

Ruth snapped back into focus and looked at her mother-in-law. “Of course.”

“You do not have to tell me, or Draco, if you do not wish to but you might find giving instructions to your house-elf on how to assist in such cases helpful.”

Ruth looked at Neesy who was hovering by the end of the bed and vigorously nodded when she noticed her mistress’ attention on her. A small smile spread on her lips.

“Thank you, I will.” Yet another privilege. A house-elf. Of course she had already taken note of the helpfulness of the elf with her studio flat, how clean and tidy it had been, how all the dishes had always been available, and all of her clothes, and the fridge always full. It was the same here, wasn’t it? Neesy could bring her tea and food, anywhere, in bed when she couldn’t get up, or even on the arm chair in the damn bathroom. Neesy could pick her clothes and help her dress. She would wash her hair and style it. Take care of the laundry. Remind her to eat and drink. Bring her anything she needed, from sustenance to entertainment to help. It was overwhelming to consider how that might affect Ruth on a day like this in the future.

“Now, I want you to drink your tea and eat your brunch and then, if you can, get some more sleep. We will wake you when the healer has arrived. May he attend to you here or would you prefer your parlor?”

Ruth considered it quickly. When she had had only one room, it didn’t really matter but now that she had several she found that it did. Her bedroom now felt more… private.

“The parlor please.”

“Of course. Eat and then rest, dear. I will see you later.” Narcissa gave another smile and left.

“Neesy,” Ruth called for the elf who came to the side of the bed immediately.

“Yes, Mistress?” Neesy looked up at her eagerly.

“Thank you for your assistance,” Ruth said first and saw that the elf struggled to accept the thanks. They would work on that. “Would you bring me a book from my boxes? It’s called Winnie-the-Pooh.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Neesy walked off quite happily and Ruth had her first bite of divine toast with the perfect scrambled eggs, still fresh and hot and cross under its stasis charm. Heavenly.

Neesy brought the book and Ruth set it onto the bedside table, tapping it twice with her index finger. “Chapter 1,” she said and then a warm, full voice resounded from the book.

“Chapter 1. In which we are introduced to Winnie-the-Pooh and some Bees, and the stories begin. – Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, bump…”(1)

With a small smile on her lips Ruth continued to eat and drink whilst listening to the book, the reader’s voice the closest she had gotten to her mother’s. Neesy first seemed stunned at the self-reading book but then intrigued and Ruth invited the elf to stay to listen. When the elf hemmed and hawed about shirking her duties, Ruth _told_ her to stay and listen which Neesy accepted with distinct relief and more importantly with pleasure. So Ruth ate, then leaned back against the pillows and Neesy sat on the floor, and they listened to Winnie-the-Pooh.

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Quote from “Winnie-the-Pooh” by A.A. Milne (1926)


	9. From this day forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are moving forward. I had hit a snag before this chapter, then this happened and I went on with the next one which I didn't end up liking so much (although it was well within what would have fit), so I rewrote it and then wrote like two more chapters in one go. So I have a few more saved up and can resume a weekly schedule again for at least the next three weeks.  
This story will have updates sometime during the weekend. Family Matters will have a mid-week update schedule. Hopefully.  
Either way, here is the wedding! :) I'd love to hear what you thought of it at the end, thank you to everyone who left kudos, subscribed and reviewed for the last chapter <3

~*~*~*~

Ruth fumbled with the earring clutch, trying to slide it onto the back of the stud that went through her lobe. At last she succeeded and so the diamond earrings, the sparkly, dangly ones, the ones Narcissa had given her, were securely fastened to her earlobes, twinkling cheerfully in the sunlight that filled the room through the open curtains.

The earrings were the last piece to add to her appearance, the diamond necklace that had been given with the earrings already around her neck. Her hair was artfully gathered in another braided do, adorned with little hair pins that matched the rest of the jewelry – tiny diamonds set in yellow gold. Her dress picked up on the warmth of the metal in a way, the color somewhere on the spectrum between white and beige. It was a modest dress, satin without any other embellishments save for a sash around her waist tying into a bow at her lower back, the same color as the rest of the dress. The sweetheart neckline covered everything and the short, ruffled sleeves were the detail that Ruth had chosen the dress for. They made the dress, and her, feel light, maybe a little flutter-y, maybe a little floaty. Narcissa had asked her what she’d always envisioned for her wedding as a girl but Ruth couldn’t remember. She didn’t know if it was one of the memories her mind no longer wanted or if she just hadn’t had any visions for her potential wedding. She felt it was more the latter, thankfully.

Now that she was a bride on her wedding day, she found that she liked the way she looked. She looked but more importantly felt pretty but even more important than that, she felt ready. A good night’s sleep had worked wonders and she was thankful for that. She was thankful for Draco’s healer who had left an outline for the first course of action including appropriate potions and tonics until Ruth had her own healer.

Draco hadn’t seemed surprised when she’d admitted she preferred to have another healer. Ruth had allowed him, _asked_ him, to stay while his healer consulted with her and he had been so casual about finding her a different one once that one had left. Narcissa was so right, Draco was incredibly observant.

Ruth hadn’t seen her fiancé all day which was less due to wizarding tradition, as far as Ruth understood, and more due to him having some things to take care of. When Narcissa said that Draco was to meet them at the bottom of the big staircase, and there had been a distinct little smirk on the woman’s face, Ruth had had an inkling that her mother-in-law had something to do with all that too. Ruth may not have had a vision for her wedding day but she had seen plenty of period films to have a fantasy about coming down a grand staircase in a grand dress.

Narcissa smiled when Ruth stepped through into her parlor after Neesy was finally satisfied with Ruth’s appearance. The smile was warm, and more importantly earnest.

“Shall we?” Narcissa asked, offering her daughter-in-law her arm and Ruth took it.

There were too many corridors between her rooms and the grand staircase but walking with Narcissa made it a little more bearable.

“Wait here and count to ten, slowly,” Narcissa instructed, leaving Ruth at the corner where she was still hidden from view. The older woman went down the staircase first and after Ruth had dutifully counted to ten, slowly, she stepped forward to the top of the staircase.

As expected Draco stood at the bottom of it, slightly impatient if she was reading him right but his face smoothed as soon as he followed his mother’s gaze up to her. This was it. This was her grand staircase moment.

Reaching for the banister for balance, Ruth slowly and carefully climbed down the grand staircase. She found her lips curling to a smile slowly but surely which was good, but even better was that Draco started to smile too, almost like he couldn’t not. The small train of her dress trailed behind her and it felt exactly as elegant as she had fantasized it would.

He offered her his hand as soon as she was within reach and she took the last two steps holding onto him instead of the banister. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles above her engagement ring when she was on the same level as him, naturally shorter by her own height though.

She had wondered if he would look much different at all for their ceremony since he was quite formally dressed most of the time and on the one hand he did, on the other he didn’t. His dark gray robes were a little dressier than the other ones she had seen him wear but it wasn’t so much what he was wearing, it was more how he felt to her. This was an important moment and she felt that they could both tell.

“Ruth,” he said finally and squeezed her fingers lightly. “You are breathtaking.”

She couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, squeezing his hand back. “You seem to be breathing just fine,” she retorted playfully and he smirked in response. “Thank you. You look wonderful as well.”

“Shall we then?”

She nodded and he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm.

Tuesday afternoon wasn’t supposed to be a particularly busy time at the Ministry which was why Draco had chosen it for their ceremony, Ruth supposed. They went through the floo just fine, Narcissa making sure that not an atom of soot stuck to them, and Draco led them to the correct floor.

It was there that the Ministry seemed a little busier than usual, or at least Ruth got the feeling that maybe this floor didn’t see an accumulation of people like this very often. Which was probably more due to the significance of the people themselves rather than their number.

She stopped walking as soon she saw them and Draco stopped because she did. Narcissa halted as well and Ruth could feel their eyes on her to gauge her reaction. Ruth swallowed thickly then gripped Draco’s arm a little tighter and straightened up a little. He continued walking towards the assigned room of the registrar’s office without her having to prompt him to.

“Ruth, you look gorgeous.” Neville was the first one to greet her and she could feel a lump form in her throat when Draco released her arm for her friend to be able to give her a light hug.

“Thank you,” she all but whispered, overwhelmed by the unexpected guests. Her eyes flickered from face to face, though no one quite met her eyes they were all there.

Neville was holding a flower, a yellow rose, which he was fiddling with then and glancing to his side. Harry stepped up next to him then and Ruth didn’t know what to make of the fact that Harry Potter had come to her wedding ceremony. If his sheepish expression was anything to go by, he was still very much aware of his misstep two days before.

“Wizarding weddings don’t really have the tradition of the wedding bouquet but it’s pretty much a must in the Muggle world, isn’t it?” Harry said in way of an explanation and offered her a white rose. She took it and also accepted the yellow one from Neville. It seemed like all of them were holding a rose of different colors.

“Thank you, Harry,” she said quietly.

“I want you to know that I’m not here today for any official reasons or anything,” he emphasized then, looking both at her and at Draco. “We’re here to share an important day with a friend.” He gestured to his left where Ginny had come up, also carrying a rose, another white one which she gave to Ruth with an almost sheepish smile.

“You look beautiful, Ruth, congratulations,” the redhead said and Ruth nodded, taking hold of Draco’s elbow again, holding the roses in the other hand.

Ernie gave her a pink rose and Ruth could tell, although she hadn’t seen him in years, that he was widely uncomfortable being there from the way he all but ignored Draco completely. But he was there, by whatever force or miracle, and it mattered more than she had been aware.

Susan had a purple rose and gave Ruth a tight hug before she looked Draco squarely in the face to tell him to be good to her. Draco stiffly assured her of that and Ruth wondered just how uncomfortable this had to be for him.

Justin was much the same of Ernie, focusing only on her. He thrust a white rose at her and stood back.

Hannah was the last one and Ruth was sure that everyone could feel the anticipation in the air. She was given the yellow rose first before Hannah gave her a sheepish, very guilty look, seemingly unable to find words. Ruth just nodded and added the rose to her collection. It was neither the time nor place for the conversation they needed to have.

A proper wizarding wedding probably would have had much more splendor and detail to it, Ruth thought, but a wizarding marriage ceremony was fairly curt and straight up.

First Draco and her were asked to confirm their identities, then their wands were weighed and finally the registrar performed the binding charm on their joined hands after having them confirm their free will and agreement. There were no rings, no I do’s, no ‘you may kiss the bride now’. Within less than fifteen minutes Ruth went from being Ruth-Anne Norrington with just a few boxes of possessions and no money to her name to Ruth-Anne Malfoy, wife of Draco Malfoy and due to their marriage agreement quite well to do for herself. Within the same fifteen minutes, Draco went from being Draco Lucius Malfoy, heir and head of the (formerly?) esteemed House of Malfoy, member of the Sacred 28, to still being the heir and head of the house but definitely no longer a member of the Sacred 28. No matter which way around Draco insisted their favor went, it definitely seemed like one of them had gained something while the other had lost something. Funny how that worked.

The assorted guests gave their congratulations but that was over fairly quickly too. Most of them were eager not to linger, Ruth could tell and she was eager for them not to either. She didn’t know what Hannah, or maybe more so Neville?, had done to get them to show up in the first place but she hadn’t been close to these people in years. Still, it was nice of them to be there.

The most heartfelt congratulations came from Narcissa and she was the only one Ruth sensed some emotionality from. Her only son getting married mattered to Narcissa, Ruth knew that and she was glad that Draco hadn’t been so strict and narrow-minded as to not allow anyone to attend their ceremony, not even his mother. Narcissa cared a great deal and Ruth knew that to some degree that now extended to her as well.

Back at the Manor, the house-elves stood salute to the newlyweds with Neesy being quite joyfully weepy. The elves had prepared a magnificent feast for the occasion that took hours to get through and left Ruth feeling very, very full as well as very, very out of place. Each and every course had had at least one thing that she had had to ask for an explanation about. It was also blatantly obvious that the dishes and ingredients were only of the highest quality and luxury, and she still didn’t know how to deal with that. There was the lingering realization that she would have to get used to that, or at least learn how to interact with it.

The moment she had known would have to come at some point came after Ruth had squeezed the last bit of dessert into her overfilled stomach, not knowing where she had made the space for it. Narcissa bade them both goodnight, expressing again her joy and well-wishes for the new couple but leaving before the awkwardness had fully set in. The awkwardness of everyone knowing what was going to happen tonight. The wedding night.

Draco met her eyes shortly and she was glad she could see that awareness in his eyes as well. He offered her his arm wordlessly and just as she had taken it, they twisted out of place and reappeared in his parlor. She squeezed his arm gratefully, caring much less about the uncomfortable sensation of apparition than about the intimidating journey from the dining room back to their quarters. He held onto her for another moment and let go when she was steady on her feet.

There was nothing much different about his parlor and yet it felt different. Maybe, probably because sometime later it would no longer be the only room of his quarters that she would know. On the coffee table was a vase with the roses she had been given at the ceremony and next to the vase was a tea tray. It almost felt like evening tea was starting to become a tradition.

Draco gestured to the sofa she had sat on at her first visit as well and went around the other one, another bouquet of flowers appearing in his hands when he bent down and then straightened up again. It was a bouquet of daisies and it made Ruth’s heart squeeze. He arranged the bouquet next to the roses and she couldn’t help but reach out and run a fingertip over the soft, white petals and the slightly fluffy, yellow centers. Although it hurt, and it would never not hurt, having the namesake flowers there felt right, felt like a part of her was there too. She gave Draco a small, grateful smile which he answered with a nod as he sat.

While he poured them tea, Ruth took a moment to admire the roses her friends had gifted her. The colors were a little mismatched, two yellow roses, three white ones, one light pink and one purple one, but it really didn’t matter. They were representation that her friends had been there and she already knew that she would be preserving these flowers under a stasis charm until… well, as long as a stasis charm could preserve flowers, she had no idea how long that could be.

“Jealousy,” Draco said suddenly while she was feeling one of the yellow roses.

“Pardon?” She looked up at him, startled and also a little bewildered at his word and tone. What on earth had prompted him to mention jealousy just now?

“Yellow roses. They mean jealousy and infidelity.”

Ruth blinked and looked back down onto the two yellow roses she had received. From Neville and Hannah respectively. Jealousy and infidelity?

“Of course, that’s the rather dated interpretation of them. Recently they’ve come to represent friendship and caring which I suppose is the meaning they were intending,” Draco added and Ruth felt like she could breathe again.

Friendship and caring. That was more like it.

Although… She stared at the yellow roses, the ones Neville and Hannah had given her, and felt heavy. She couldn’t imagine how it would be possible to salvage the friendship, most of all with Hannah, but she wanted to, oh did she want to. Yellow roses for friendship and caring.

“Do the other-“ She had to break off to clear her throat a little. “Do the other ones mean something as well?” She looked at her husband who seemed to be watching her quite closely.

“White roses mean purity and innocence as well as new beginnings. They are most common for weddings,” he explained and Ruth touched the three white roses from Harry, Ginny and Justin. Purity, innocence, new beginnings, weddings. Each of those words could have carried much deeper meaning than she thought her friends had assigned the flowers so she made herself not contemplate it too deeply. White roses for weddings.

There were two different roses left now. Light pink from Ernie and purple from Susan.

“Pink can mean a variety of things and it depends on the shade,” Draco told her. “Generally, pink is for gratitude and light pink indicates grace and elegance as well as admiration.”

Ruth nodded. Gratitude and grace fit how their friendship had been before the war. Ernie had expressed his admiration for some of the magic she’d been better at than him many times. Light pink roses for gratitude and admiration.

“Now this one is a bit interesting,” he mentioned casually, gesturing to the last rose which her fingers had gone to. “Purple can carry different meaning based on the shade as well. Lavender, for instance, would speak of love at first sight.” He paused there, letting the words hang in the air. Ruth just gave him a look though. Neither was the rose the lavender shade of purple nor was Susan in any way romantically inclined towards Ruth. “Darker purple references to royalty, opulence, elegance as well.”

That painted a large smile onto Ruth’s face and she almost let out a small laugh. Royalty. Yes, yes, that would be something Susan would use a rose to express. She ran her finger over the deeply purple petals and smiled.

“From your expression I suppose there is a deeper meaning?” he voiced his curiosity and she gave him a quick look before she nodded.

“Susan used to tease me, calling me The Queen,” she told him, feeling a little wistful for that time. So much had been easier back then, and she had still had her sister. “I like drinking tea from a proper cup with a saucer which she thought was quite fancy indeed so they took to calling me The Queen whenever I did.”

The corners of Draco’s mouth twitched for a moment. “I see. Would you like some tea then? From a proper cup with a saucer?” He gestured to the tea tray and Ruth sat up to accept the cup he handed her then. His lips twitched again when she sat back very primp and proper, holding the saucer in one hand and took up the cup with her pinky finger extended.

“Quite fancy indeed,” he teased as she took a sip.

“Indeed.” She took another sip and contemplated for a moment but then decided to wait until they had finished their tea before moving on.

They sipped their tea in silence but it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. Every now and then, while Ruth herself looked around to take in more details of her husband’s parlor, she could sense him looking at her. Of course he always quickly averted his eyes when she looked his way but from the corner of her eye she caught his expression once or twice. She didn’t have much experience with it, and the experience she did have predated the war, but he might have been looking at her in an admiring way. She carefully avoided crossing his gaze again then, feeling somewhat… warmer? Soothed? That he seemed to like looking at her and that he seemed to like the way she looked as well. Nothing of their appearances had played even an ounce of a part of how their marriage had come to be, at least not that she was aware of, so somehow him looking at her in a possibly admiring way felt… It was nice.

When she was finished with her cup of tea, and she was pretty sure he was with his as well, she carefully placed the fine porcelain back onto the tray and turned to face him.

“I have something for you,” she told him and he eyed her for a moment, taking that moment to smooth the genuine surprise from his face. “It’s, uhm…” She fiddled with the sash at her waist for a moment, where she had tucked the tiny cloth bag in the morning. She took a deep breath and stood, rounding the coffee table.

Draco stood immediately as well and watched her come around to him. Ruth met his eyes for a moment, could see he didn’t know what to expect now, knew herself that he really didn’t, couldn’t, know what was going to come now which was the whole point.

“I didn’t know much about wizarding wedding ceremonies before today as you could probably deduce from all my questions,” she began and he gave a small nod. “You told me anything I wanted and needed to know about it and I’m really grateful for that. I want to return the favor.” She hadn’t really known what she was going to say, how she was going to explain this to him but she could see on his face that the use of ‘favor’ was both fortunate as well as unfortunate. She carried on.

“I think you did a little research on your own already because you gave me an engagement ring which isn’t very usual in wizarding tradition as far as I’ve gathered.” She lifted her left hand and wriggled her fingers, the diamond shining with the movements. “The bridal bouquet that Harry mentioned is a Muggle wedding tradition but that’s really just a detail that isn’t as important. There is a staple that is more important and I want to share that with you.” She held his gaze as she fiddled with the little satin bag she had put the item into.

“I had to ask your mother about this because I’d observed that all the wizarding couples I had seen didn’t have it but I wasn’t entirely sure. I, uhm…” Her fingers were shaking as she finally managed to extract the plain, yellow gold ring from the bag. “Muggle married couples most of the time wear wedding rings which are exchanged at the ceremony, so, uhm…” She swallowed against a lump in her throat and took a deep breath. “We both know that I didn’t have a lot before but I wanted to give you _something_ because…” She looked up and met his eyes again, his gray eyes that became stormier by the moment but not in the way they had been a few days before. “Because I appreciate all you’re giving me and also that you… that you want my Muggle upbringing in this. So uhm…” She fiddled with the ring for a moment. “I hope it fits?”

It was impossible to say what he was thinking, what he was feeling, except that he might have been thinking and feeling a lot according to his eyes. For several breaths, or what she felt were several breaths, he stood still and she fretted that she had crossed a line, that she had upset their delicate balance that she still didn’t know what it depended on. But then he lifted his hands, offering them to her, offering his fingers to her.

“Uhm, in Britain the wedding ring is worn on the left hand,” she rambled on, reaching for his left hand with still shaking fingers, “on the fourth finger, the ring finger. Other countries wear it on the right, the Germans for example, but uhm, we usually do the left.” She carefully slid the ring onto his left ring finger, noting how slender and long his fingers were, instantly squashing down the thought that he had perfect pianist fingers. The ring seemed a little big, she felt. “I think it’s a little big?” She looked at him unsurely.

His eyes were unreadable still but the intensity made her ears rush.

“May I?” he asked, producing his wand and, after she had nodded, casting a charm on the ring that resized it perfectly. She let out a small breath at the sight of a ring, a wedding ring, her wedding ring, on his finger. Without looking at him again, she lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles above the ring just like he had done to her before.

Trying to draw in a fortifying breath, she kept hold of his hand, almost certain she could feel him shaking as well, as she looked and straightened up a little.

“There is usually a vow exchanged as well, if the ceremony is in a church. I’m not… I’m not particularly religious in that sense but I’ve always liked that part,” she told him and gave a small, sheepish shrug. When he didn’t say anything, she just carried on quickly. “There are different versions, depending on personal preference and also denomination. Uhm, I… You don’t have to participate in it at all but I wanted to show you because… because you said you wanted me to teach you as I would teach our son so…”

There was a miniscule squeeze of his fingers around hers which prompted her to continue.

“I, Ruth-Anne Norrington, take you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, for my lawful husband,   
to have and to hold from this day forward,   
for better, for worse,   
for richer, for poorer,   
in sickness and health,   
until death do us part,” she spoke carefully and meaningfully, holding both of his hands tightly in hers as well as not taking her eyes from his. It had taken some research to find a vow that didn’t make any mention of love which she had felt would have been both misplaced as well as presumptuous but still had all the parts that mattered. For better and for worse, for richer and poorer, in sickness and health. She had been unsure about the ‘until death do us part’ part of it but it had just slipped out with it now, so integral as the ending of the wedding vows she had witnessed as a girl. “The ‘until death do us part’ goes back to the Christian notion of divorce being ungodly and sinful so traditionally Christian marriages can only be parted by death. I, uhm…” ‘Until death do us part’ wasn’t quite in line with a Hogwarts age separation, was it?

Draco didn’t mention her parenthesis as he looked down at their hands for a moment, particularly his ringed hand in hers. When he looked up again, he held her hand a little tighter in his left and maintained unwavering eye contact as he spoke:

“I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, take you, Ruth-Anne Norrington, for my lawful wife,   
to have and to hold from this day forward,   
for better, for worse,   
for richer, for poorer,   
in sickness and health,   
until death do us part.”

It was in that moment, while her husband spoke the words who were so familiar to her, who seemed to carry more meaning for her than the entire ceremony earlier in the afternoon, that she understood the magic of it. Why couples teared up at the altar as they exchanged these vows that thousands of couples had exchanged before them and after them. Why these old words, outdated in some people’s minds, were still used at the union of two people who were coming together to form a new family. It gave her chills and made her eyes fill up as he spoke them, just as carefully and meaningfully as she had tried to say them.

One tear made an escape and ran down her cheek and he let go of her hand, her left still in his right, to quickly wipe it away. She leaned her cheek into it and he let it remain there for a moment.

“Uhm,” she swallowed thickly, “there’s another part which we don’t have to do but uhm, it’s kind of… I think many people think it’s pretty important but I don’t care so much about it because it’s a bit, well, the whole permission part of it is a bit weird, I think, so…”

“What is it?” he asked and she surely wasn’t imaging his slightly rough, deeper voice, was she?

“When the vows and the exchanging of the rings are through, the priest or pastor or officiant, they allow the groom to kiss the bride for the first time. Like, they literally say ‘You may now kiss the bride’ which I think is a bit weird because of the permission bit so…” She trailed off.

His eyes flickered down to her lips and came back to hers. Several moments passed before she realized why he was looking at her so insistently.

“You may now kiss the bride,” she got out, barely more than a whisper, and her eyes fell shut as his lips came to hers.

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure if I ever showed you the models for the earrings and necklace Narcissa gave Ruth but here is the collection of the wedding ensemble: [earrings](https://www.langantiques.com/vintage-jewelry/earrings/victorian-pear-shaped-diamond-earrings.html), [pendant/necklace](https://www.langantiques.com/vintage-jewelry/necklaces/victorian-diamond-heart-locket-3.html), [hair](http://i.ebayimg.com/images/i/141732312383-0-1/s-l1000.jpg) and [dress](https://shop.nordstrom.com/s/show-me-your-mumu-marie-sweetheart-gown/5110482/full?origin=category-personalizedsort&breadcrumb=Home%2FBrands%2FShow%20Me%20Your%20Mumu&color=dusty%20blush%20crisp). Hope all the links work.
> 
> The rose color meanings are from [here](https://www.almanac.com/content/flower-meanings-language-flowers) and [here](https://www.theflowerexpert.com/content/aboutflowers/flowermeanings/rose-flower-meanings). The vow Ruth recited I found [here](https://www.theknot.com/content/traditional-wedding-vows-from-various-religions).


	10. Doors shut and open

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is, the chapter after The Kiss... we'll see how it all plays out.  
Thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos, and welcome to the new subscribers! :)

~*~*~*~

There was a crash behind the door that Ruth was leaning against and she flinched. She wanted to go back inside so badly, had never wanted to go through the door in the first place but he had asked her to so she had. She could feel the magic on it too, felt that it wouldn’t readmit her unless he allowed it.

Another crash had her leaning her forehead against the dark wood and spreading her hands on either side of her head as if she was able to push it in. The first crash had been something light, something that had shattered, something made of glass. The second one, that had been bigger, more dull, more splintery, a piece of furniture, maybe a chair, a stool.

A moment later there were no more sounds and she squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers curling up. Silencing wards had gone up and although she could no longer hear it, she felt it, felt his shouts, his yells, his screams, his cries, sensed the other things being thrown as an expression of his frustration and anger at himself.

He was not angry at her, she felt that. She hadn’t done anything wrong, she knew that, but neither had he and she feared he did not know that. She wanted to barge back in and tell him that, but she couldn’t.

Turning she slid down to the floor with her back against the door and pulled her knees to her chest. The flowing fabric of her wedding dress fell around her and she ran her fingers over the smooth satin. Pulling off her shoes, she stood them next to her and leaned her head back.

Draco had liked the wedding ring, she was certain of that. He had repeated the vow back to her and he had meant it, she was sure of that as well. And the kiss, their first kiss, it had been special.

Maybe it had also been misleading because there had been some chemistry there, there had been some sparks in the way they had kissed once more, twice, thrice, another after another, small, soft kisses full of uncertainty but also full of yearning. He had held her for a few moments and she had felt that it would be okay.

Taking that spark over into his bedroom had been less easy though. He had taken her hand and led her through the door. She had done her best to breathe through her nerves and the kiss he had pressed to her knuckles once more had felt reassuring. Then her breath had hitched as he’d turned her hand and kissed the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist. His lips had traveled up her arm, to the part of her shoulder the dress left uncovered, to her collarbone. She’d let herself fall into it, had accepted this part just like she had everything else.

But then things had flipped and as Ruth thought about it now, she felt she knew why too. She had reciprocated, had kissed his knuckles, one after the other, and then had tried to kiss the inside of his wrist. She hadn’t thought what else might have been under the fabric as she’d fumbled with the cuff links to have access to the soft skin there but now, sitting against his bedroom door, shut out, silenced out, she let go of a big breath. She had placed his wedding ring on his _left_ hand, as was custom in Great Britain, and so she had kissed the knuckles of his _left_ hand, and tried to kiss the inside of his _left_ wrist, and had pushed up the fabric on his _left_ forearm.

She knew of the mark only by the accounts of others and she couldn’t remember if she had heard anything about what had happened with it after the… After the war ended. His actions made her feel as though there were possibly remnants, as if maybe the mark was still there even though the mark-er wasn’t. It didn’t matter which it was, or if it was something entirely else. She was out here and he was in there and it made her feel heavy, and sad, and her heart went out to him.

The other door opened and she held her hand open for the book that came to her. Ruth stretched out her legs in front of her and sat a little more comfortably, as comfortably as was possible sitting against the door. The book flicked open at the wave of her hand and she closed her eyes, head resting back against the wood, as the voice began to read quietly.

“Once upon a time there were four little Rabbits, and their names were Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, and Peter. They lived with their Mother in a sand-bank, underneath the root of a very big fir-tree. ‘Now, my dears,’ said old Mrs. Rabbit one morning, …” (1)

There was a nudge against her back, kind of edged and hard and uncomfortable, and as she squirmed against it, the pressure ceased but then there was a cold draft against her back. She grumbled at it, not yet fully awake nor coherent. That changed drastically when she heard his voice.

“Ruth-Anne.”

Her name, her full name, had never sounded so curt and cold coming from his mouth and she ignored the twinges in her joints as she scrambled to her feet. His hand was only there for the moment she needed to rise and find her footing then he let go and his hands went behind is back.

He stood in front of her, back straight, hands clasped behind him, shoulders squared. He was tall and it was an intimidating stance but that wasn’t what scared her. It was in his stare, it were his gray eyes that she had last seen stormy but were now so empty.

Her hands curled into the wrinkled fabric of her dress and she could feel her hairdo half dissolved, probably flattened on one side where she had slept on, the other mostly intact. He in turn was impeccably dressed, not a wrinkle in sight, everything but his hands and half his neck upwards covered. The gray of his robes was so dark it was very nearly black.

“May I escort you to your quarters?” he asked but it wasn’t really a question, it was a command.

As she could feel that this time he was not going to escort her on his arm, she quickly swept her shoes off the floor and turned to walk through yet another door she didn’t want to go through but he had asked her to so she did. He followed two steps behind her and stood in the middle of the corridor as her door opened without her touch, back still straight, shoulders still squared, eyes still empty, hands still hidden behind his back.

Words failed her and so the door swung shut before any had passed her lips. At the click of the door closing, she dropped her shoes and sunk into one of the seats in her parlor. This wasn’t what she had hoped for on the morning of her first day of marriage.

The time until dinner was unbearably long. She spent it alone, with only Neesy for company as the elf drew her a bath and when she was served lunch in her bedroom as well as tea later in the afternoon. She reread Peter Rabbit without the elf, lying on the bed with her legs up the headboard, staring at the ceiling.

The flowers appeared on the table under the windows in her bedroom, the roses as well as the daisies. She spent some time remembering the meanings he had told her and touched every single blossom of the bouquet he had given her, like she could feel anything else besides the smoothness of the petals and the fluff of the middles.

When it was finally time for dinner, Ruth dressed, once again in a pair of denims and the best shirt she could find. She reminded herself to seek Narcissa’s help for a new wardrobe and the remodeling of her quarters but those thoughts left her head entirely only a few minutes into dinner.

She had just speared a piece of potato, dunking it into the delicious gravy, when her fork slowly slid from her loosened grip. There was no loud noise, no clatter, no clunk, as she stared across from her, at her husband, at his left hand, in which he too held a fork with which he was eating. For a few moments he remained ignorant of her observation but then his movements halted as well.

She felt short of breath suddenly, and had to focus on that for a few inhales and exhales before her chest felt less tight. She watched as he paused for a moment or two, could feel his piercing gaze on herself, but was unable to look away. He took up his fork again and from his movements she could tell he was continuing with dinner as he had been.

Ruth blinked once, twice, thrice, took ar slow, controlled breath and then another, before she took up her fork with a tight grip as well and brought the piece of potato to her lips. The potato was now like chalk in her mouth and the gravy was tasteless on her tongue. With a stubbornness that came from somewhere within her that she couldn’t name she looked straight ahead as she automatically went through the process of chewing and then swallowing, for as long as it took until Draco looked up again. It was just a glance but then he looked up fully, obviously registering her stare. She didn’t speak but it wasn’t necessary for her to say anything. So much passed through them unspoken. Like his left ring finger being bare, the ring she had slipped onto it not even 24 hours before gone.

She waited for the rest of dinner to feel something but didn’t. Or if there was a feeling she could grasp passing through her, then it was a kind of sadness, an angry kind of sadness. No, if she was honest to herself, she did feel that. Anger and sadness. The sadness she understood immediately but the anger took her longer to place and figure out. It wasn’t until she was back in her rooms and touching her roses again that she could.

Draco taking off the ring, not wearing the ring, made her sad because she had thought they had somehow connected, last evening, the days before that, really since he had proposed to her. It made her sad that he seemed to be withdrawing again and how she knew that he was withdrawing rather than just disregarding her gift, she didn’t know but she felt it was more a deliberate choice than just a careless one. It was also that which made her angry. She had thought they were connected, forging something between them, maybe something bordering on friendship or companionship, and now he was a cold, stony wall again.

Anger had always made her feel defiant and it did this time as well. As a child and teenager, anger and defiance hadn’t always worked out best for her, or the target of her anger, but she reveled in the feeling now. It was different from most of the things she had been feeling lately and she welcomed it. She wasn’t sure how to place Draco’s behavior yet, the change in it, but she was going to defiantly continue on her path. She had liked their companionship, had liked being able to talk to him, having someone in her corner, finding a new home. She doubted he would readily leap back to it just because she demanded it so but she was rediscovering her determination and defiance and stubbornness and that felt too good to just give it up and back down.

~*~*~*~

Draco sort of stepping out of the picture made Ruth realize that she had no plan. The next morning she woke up at what she felt was a reasonable time, light outside outshining the lamps she had kept on, and realized that she didn’t know what to do now. She hadn’t really thought what would happen after the wedding, not really.

There were a few basics that she knew. Their celebratory ball was coming up in a month. She would have a full on health check with a family healer (rescheduled from the St. Mungo’s one much to her relief, also with a woman at her request). She would also probably have her first attempt at getting pregnant, very likely without Draco’s active participation now. But those things were hardly things she could fill her days with. Remodeling her quarters though, and participating in the continued preparations for the ball, that was something that could very well fill her day.

The teal sitting room was as wonderful the second time around as it had been the first, only that Ruth was now able to freely enjoy its tasteful design without any emotional turmoil interfering. She’d sent Neesy to Narcissa with a note, asking whether and when they could meet to discuss the remodeling as well as the ball plans and Neesy had returned with an invitation for morning tea.

Narcissa was as impeccably dressed as if she wasn’t just expecting her daughter-in-law for tea and that made Ruth remember another entry on her agenda – her wardrobe. She sat down first though, at Narcissa’s invitation, and enjoyed a perfectly prepared cup of tea.

After several moments of contemplating on how to word things, Ruth decided to abandon the stilted pleasantries her brain had come up with and just went for it.

“Narcissa, I’m afraid I need to ask quite a lot of help from you,” she began and the older woman regarded her carefully over her own cup of tea. “You’ve already been so helpful in figuring out my favorite colors and interior schemes with me and I value your expertise so much.” Okay, maybe she was spouting some of the pleasantries her brain had conjured up but it couldn’t hurt, could it? It was also the truth. She did value Narcissa’s expertise because she herself had exactly none, at least not in the relevant fields.

“It was my pleasure, Ruth-Anne,” Narcissa responded a little stiffly and Ruth swallowed.

“Could you also lend me your expertise in the matters of my wardrobe?” Ruth asked shyly. If Narcissa was surprised, she didn’t show it. “I feel as though… the things that I have brought may not be as suitable for my new home. To be honest, it has been a long time since I have given any deeper thought into my clothing beyond practicability and price. When you helped me find my dresses… With just a few questions you had figured out what I liked even though I didn’t even know myself that I liked it.”

A somewhat lopsided smile came to Narcissa’s lips and she took another sip of her tea. “Some, shall we say dispositions appear to be hereditary in nature, one could say,” she said and Ruth unpacked that in her head slowly.

Dispositions, talents. Hereditary, meaning learned or existent in the family. So Narcissa found that her and Draco had this in common, this talent. Being observant certainly was something they were both good at but it was also paired with clever foresight as how to place their observations. Being observant in itself was a good talent to have but even more valuable when you know what to make of your observations. Draco and Narcissa were both good at guessing what she thought and needed, Ruth figured.

“Indeed,” she agreed and enjoyed more of her tea. Maybe if she had been better at observing Draco she would have foreseen the derailment of their wedding night, maybe she would already know more things about him, maybe she’d already have a plan how to crack this tough nut. But she wasn’t good at being observant.

“I have gathered some samples for your rooms if you would like to see them,” Narcissa seamlessly moved on to the next topic and Ruth was thankful for it.

“Oh, very much, thank you!” she assented eagerly and Narcissa summoned Pospy to lay out the samples.

Ruth shared lunch with her mother-in-law over their plans for her room as well as the ball. Everything they had discussed so far, Narcissa had perfectly remembered and gathered samples, pictures, suggestions and more accordingly. Because she expected Narcissa wouldn’t have liked the reference so much she didn’t voice it but the older woman was definitely an event, and in this case wedding, planner through and through. Then again, Ruth pondered quietly to herself, Narcissa came from a revered pureblood family and she felt as though such a family would have educated daughters in skills pertaining to being the decoration at the side of a pureblooded husband. Only that Narcissa was definitely not just decoration, she was a fierce mother and a determined woman and there was a lot she could learn from her mother-in-law over the next twelve years.

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Quote from “The Tales of Peter Rabbit” by Beatrix Potter (1901)
> 
> The model for Narcissa’s sitting room is [this](https://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2014/08/21/1408621323433_Image_galleryImage_BNPS_co_uk_01202_558833_P.JPG) wonderful room in a [restored 18th century manor](https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2730716/That-s-quite-return-investment-Eighteenth-century-country-manor-sold-dilapidated-wreck-just-ONE-POUND-goes-market-2-3MILLION.html).


	11. Rooms and clothes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we get a little more Narcissa in this one...  
Also, I picked up a lot of vocabulary researching on words for different styles of clothing and all that. I'm not even sure I know all of them in my own language but now I at least know them in English... the wonders of bilingualism.  
Anyway, here we go. Let me know what you think? :)

~*~*~*~

“What on _earth_ are you doing?!”

There was a wet splat of paint dripping from the paint roller in Ruth’s hand before she could answer Narcissa’s outcry of shock but at least she had covered the floor and everything unmovable in the room with Neesy before they had started?

“I’m painting my bedroom,” Ruth answered finally, stating the very obvious. The room was bare, all furniture removed and everything else covered.

From Narcissa’s expression Ruth could tell that the lady of the house very much agreed with Neesy’s previous pleas. It did seem a little… willfully laborious to manually paint the walls in her bedroom but as soon as the paint had arrived, the thought hadn’t left Ruth’s head and so she had set herself to the task. Naturally, Neesy and the other elves who had been assisting with the renovations of her rooms had been appalled and had tried to convince her to let them do it instead. But she had wanted to contribute as well and there was fairly little she could do herself so painting the walls it was. The parlor had a wallpaper which she would have never dreamt of attempting to put up herself and the bathroom was getting new tiling which also was something she would never even think of trying to do herself.

Now she was stood by the beginning of the second wall she was painting, herself and the floor covered by splatters of the light, pastel-y green she had chosen, despite Neesy offering to put repelling charms on both but mostly on Ruth. She didn’t mind though, or maybe she would mind later when Neesy set about removing the dried paint from her hair, because getting covered in splatters was just as much part of the process as the walls changing color was. Wasn’t it? She couldn’t claim she had ever attempted a task like this by herself, her father had painted the sisters’ shared bedroom with just some help from the girls who had painted the corners and lining with brushes. He had suggested painting the room two colors even, dividing their sides, but they had quickly and easily settled on a lavender-y color and that was that. It had been an ongoing joke afterwards, each of them pointing out the arbitrary line between their halves.

There would be no halves in this room though, at least not if Ruth could help it. The rest of the walls were white, the paint base Ruth had allowed the elves to put up in order to ensure the complete covering of the former floral design. She could very easily have had them put up the green paint as well but she’d wanted to do it herself, so she was.

“And why in Merlin’s name are you?” Narcissa pressed the issue, eyeing the room and her paint splattered daughter-in-law with quite obvious disapproval. It was a fairly new expression on her mother-in-law’s face that Ruth got to see in that moment, most of the time Narcissa was very good at keeping her expression contained, displaying only that which she wanted to display. Lately, Ruth had seen a lot of patience and encouragement so this was new and also a little unsettling, despite Ruth feeling justified in her choice to actively participate in the renovations.

“Because I wanted to,” she said carefully and cast a quick look to the roller which she had just loaded with paint and who was still dripping on the covered floor and she should probably get that paint onto the wall before it dried, right?

Narcissa’s mouth opened but closed very quickly and her expression smoothed. “I see,” was all she said and Ruth blinked a few times. “Well, I suppose trying on the clothes that were delivered will have to wait then.” She looked around again and Ruth detected a slight furrow between Narcissa’s brows before that, too, smoothed away. “How much time do you estimate it will take to paint the room?” The question could, very easily, have sounded passive-aggressive or disapproving but instead Ruth only heard curiosity.

“Uhm…” Ruth gave a shrug. “I really have no idea? I’ve never done this before on my own.”

“You have… never done this?” Narcissa looked surprised.

“I’ve seen my father do it,” Ruth offered with another shrug. “It’s a bit tricky trying to figure out how to load the roller with paint and then get that paint onto the wall but Neesy and the others did a great job covering everything that shouldn’t be painted so I’m fairly hopeful it won’t be atrocious when I’m finished. Of course, they tried to convince me to let them do that as well but I insisted. I figure I can still let them fix whatever I mess up in the end.”

“Indeed.” Narcissa shook her head lightly, to herself mostly, and then nodded sharply. “You will probably be taking lunch on the go, I expect?”

Ruth nodded. “Seems more practical.”

“I will see you for dinner then, Ruth-Anne.” Narcissa gave her a short smile and left.

Ruth exhaled a breath and nodded to herself. That could have been worse, she assured herself, and put the roller to the wall. Her arms and shoulders and neck and back and every part of her body really, would be so sore when she was finished, she already knew. But she welcomed it, especially because she knew the elves would be the ones to put up the new furniture and then tomorrow she would sleep in her new bedroom.

Missing lunch with Narcissa was a downside of doing this. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence but they had shared the day’s middle meal frequently in the past two weeks and Ruth enjoyed it. Breakfast was usually hers alone, lunch varied and dinners were still a family occasion, so to speak. It was also the only time she saw Draco.

By now it was fairly clear that his distance and absence was intentional and that he wished for it to stay that way. He was perfectly polite at dinner, he did speak to her occasionally but it was all surface level. He was there, he showed basic interest but there was a door he had closed and it had remained closed since their wedding evening.

The best she could do was just to… live with it. She had had hopes for something different but she would live with this as well. Sometimes she got the feeling that Narcissa wanted her to do something about it but to Ruth it was so blatantly obvious that her husband was going through something and the last thing she would ever do would be to push him on something. Whatever it was that he was or wasn’t dealing with, she would have been open to sharing it but she respected the boundaries he had drawn.

The thing was that she knew he was still paying attention, still being so observant. One of his tools was definitely Narcissa, Ruth could tell, but he also seemed to interview Neesy and the other elves. Neesy had hemmed and hawed when she’d asked her but Ruth had told her it was alright to tell Draco some things, and that if there was something she did not want shared, she would tell the elf. It was a very roundabout way that Draco was employing to keep up with her but he was doing it so she wasn’t going to shut that off.

The currently most obvious of his attentions was the renewed bouquet of daisies in her bedroom. It had been replaced three times, the first very similar to the wedding one but after she had asked Neesy if the flowers had been new, the style had changed the two times afterwards. Maybe he thought that if she was aware the flowers were being refreshed, then he didn’t have to pretend they weren’t and could choose different bouquets then. Every time a new bouquet had come, she had sent him something in return. Not a bouquet but a single yellow rose. Neesy’s reluctance told her that Draco had told the elf not to reveal anything beyond him having received the flower but that was enough for Ruth. She would let the flower speak for itself until he would speak to her directly again.

Ruth was almost late for dinner. Her room was finished but cleaning up had taken longer than expected. Mainly the part where Neesy had brushed out the dried paint from her hair. She was positive that the elf could have removed the tangles much more easily and had insisted of painstakingly brushing them out only because she had insisted on painting herself. Alas, her hair was now mostly free of green paint and she sat down to dinner to Draco’s left, Narcissa across from her, as usual.

“Have you finished painting your bedroom, dear?” Narcissa asked conversationally when they were served the entrée and from the corner of her eye, Ruth could see Draco pause in picking up his spoon for the soup.

“I have,” Ruth answered in a tone just as light and took some water. Neesy had supplied her with ample provisions throughout the day but she was still thirsty. She was also going to have a proper long soak before bed. Her temporary accommodation was a room that would sooner rather than later be part of the nursery as far as she had been told. Sooner rather than later because next week she had another appointment and they would have their first attempt.

“I’m sorry, do you mean to say you painted the room _yourself_?” Draco couldn’t have sounded more surprised and at the same time incredulous.

“Yes,” she answered simply and tried the delicious soup, cream of mushroom today. Draco stared at her while she ate and she tried not to let the addendum slip that was on the tip of her tongue. ‘The Muggle way,’ she wanted to say, ‘the way you want me to teach our son, the way you wanted to learn about before you shut me out.’

“Did the… Were you not satisfied with the work on your sitting room?” he asked next and Ruth wasn’t even surprised that he knew that they had finished her parlor first. Or sitting room, as he called it.

“Oh, I am very satisfied with how it turned out,” Ruth told him and she made sure to sound easygoing and casual. “Your mother was right that cream colored fabrics look very nice with the dark furniture and the patterned walls. You ought to come visit to have a look for yourself.” Okay, maybe not so easygoing and casual then. Also, visiting – what a ridiculous thing to say when his rooms were literally across a corridor the width of her own height. But alas, visiting sounded right too – right for a distanced husband.

Draco decided to ignore her little jab though she did catch the furrow of his eyebrows momentarily. “Then why would you paint your bedroom yourself when the house-elves have done a satisfactory job with the other rooms?”

“Because I wanted to,” she told him and much like it had been with Narcissa earlier, it also seemed to be a key phrase with Draco who accepted it immediately and without further questioning, much to her surprise.

“I see,” was his short reply and then he went back to silence for the rest of dinner.

Ruth sent a questioning look to Narcissa but she seemed just as carefully contained as he did. Not for the first time Ruth wished that she had just a fraction of the self-control they had, that she wasn’t wearing her heart on her sleeve, or more on her face, all the time. It felt like a serious disadvantage not to be able to disguise her true feelings and thoughts the same way they both seemed able to.

~*~*~*~

The next day the bedroom was ready to be furnished and Ruth was able to attend lunch with Narcissa since the elves were paying her back for refusing their help the day before by refusing her input today. It meant she was able to try on the clothes Narcissa had mentioned though which was actually very nice.

Just like Ruth had learned so much about interior design from Narcissa, from words for distinct shades of color to different types of curtains, for example, she had also learned a lot about clothes. Particularly she knew how to describe clothes better, in their style, cut, make. She now knew the words for several types of dress shapes, skirts, necklines, collars, sleeves, patterns, materials, and more. On the side she had also learned that Narcissa was good at explaining and gifted at drawing. With a few, quick lines she had drawn up sketches of different types of dresses to show their difference. And just like she had been able to coax Ruth’s favorite colors and furniture styles from her, she had been able to rouse Ruth’s fashionable side, or what was left of it, or had ever existed.

Ruth liked dresses, was the thing. Not a particularly new thing for certain people but a stark contrast to the clothes she still owned and had worn in the last years. Dresses were wonderful and Narcissa had just had to take one look at her daughter-in-law’s face when she talked about swishy skirts with a wistful expression on her face, for the older woman to know that they were going to work on that first. Since Ruth hadn’t been able to express a preference or dislike for most styles, she had ordered a selection of styles for Ruth to try on.

For the purpose of Ruth trying the dresses on, a privacy screen as well as two full-length mirrors had been brought to Narcissa’s sitting room. Naturally, they suited the interior of the room well and didn’t look out of place at all.

“This is a shift dress,” Narcissa explained when Ruth stepped out from behind the screen and towards the mirrors. The dresses all had a different color, a variety of colors on the more understated side. First they had to find the style that she liked, they could worry about material, colors and patterns later, Ruth had been told. “The straight cut is distinctive for this style.”

The straight cut also did nothing for Ruth, as she found herself as she turned this way and that in the mirror.

“On to the next one.”

Ruth blinked and looked at Narcissa through the mirror. “You don’t like it?”

“_You_ don’t like it, dear,” Narcissa stated patiently. “At least your face says so.”

Ruth looked back into the mirror and had to agree. Even if her brain hadn’t been ready to express her opinion, her face definitely was.

The next dress, a sheath dress, was better, taken in at the waist to give her some shape but her face only liked it a little better.

And so they went on, trying different waists and skirts and hemlines and necklines and sleeve lengths until Ruth lost track but Narcissa never did. It turned out that a-line skirts were a definite favorite and then the top part of the dress could vary. As long as the skirt part was flowing and swingy, the rest didn’t matter all that much. Length wise she preferred anything below knee-length, mid-calf apparently was called midi or tea, to her ankles was called maxi and then, of course, if the hem of the dress skimmed the floor that was floor-length. Any of them were fine by her.

Colors were more difficult because Ruth had even less idea about that. She couldn’t tell that warmer colors flattered her more then cool ones and that the very pastels that she so liked on her walls would not look as favorable if she wore them as her clothes. Narcissa found colors that suited her though, like some more muted shades of red (no orange tints, thank you), some variants of blue and brown, including a teal color very similar to Narcissa’s walls.

“I could just blend in!” Ruth grinned at that, going to a free patch of wall in the charmed midi-length a-line dress that currently had a teal color. It wasn’t exactly the shade of the wall but a moment later it was, with the subtle flick of Narcissa’s wand. Ruth’s grin widened and a smile even tugged on the corners of Narcissa’s mouth. Ruth’s joy was infectious.

When they were through with all the clothes and colors, Ruth’s energy was depleted so she took dinner in her newly assembled bed, surrounded by the walls she had painted and the furniture she had chosen. Finally she was rid of the overbearing four poster bed, finally the room felt bright and airy instead of dreary and smothering. Finally it felt like this could become home.

~*~*~*~

The room was big. Really big. She didn’t know exactly how big but she could easily imagine the more than 100 guests Narcissa had mentioned. Ruth hadn’t seen the final guest list, she had only given a list of people she might want to invite and then Narcissa had done the rest, probably with some input from Draco. There had been a second list as well, a list of people whom she, they, didn’t want to attend. She hadn’t written anyone on that list.

The drawing room, or ball room as Ruth was more inclined to call it, went far back, an oblong space her mind filled with people moving on the dark wooden floor and elaborately decorated tables lining the sides. She also imagined herself, in the beautiful champagne dress with the golden embroidery, mirroring the cream of walls and gold of the detailing, dancing with the man who hadn’t spoke more than a handful of words with her in the last week. She loved dancing and she hoped she would get a few turns in this beautiful room though she didn’t think many of them, or maybe even only one, would be on her husband’s arm. By now she was almost sure that the only reason he would attend was going to be on behalf of his mother’s insistence.

It took her a while to peel her hand off the door handle, finger by finger, but it was the first step towards being able to actually enter the room. There were no shadows, all the lights had gone on when she had pushed the doors open, and she was thankful for that. She wasn’t sure it was enough though, the room was so big and so long and she didn’t have- She rubbed her eye and swallowed.

Maybe just standing in the door was enough for today. Maybe just seeing the room, seeing that it could be fully lit and had no dark corners, no shadows, was enough for today. Maybe she would come back tomorrow and take another step then. She still had a few days until the ball.

Just as she was about to turn around and call Neesy back, she became aware of someone else’s presence. For a moment she thought it was Narcissa because Narcissa knew that she wanted to visit the ballroom before their ball. The older woman probably didn’t even have to guess as to why Ruth wanted to do so. But it wasn’t Narcissa who stood a few meters away.

Draco looked as he always did and then he also looked different. He was well dressed, as always, and was standing straight with his shoulders squared, looking almost reserved even as he met her eyes.

“Would you like to go in?” he asked, offering no greeting, no pleasantries, but instead proving again that he was observant and clever. He knew why she was here. He took a few steps closer, maintaining a careful distance, and offered his arm.

Ruth swallowed again. Then she slowly looped her hand around the crook of his arm. He put his hand over hers, the warmth covering it for only a moment until he jerked it away. She had looked at it.

“No,” she whispered quickly. “Don’t-“ She reached for him, stopping short, but he replaced his hand, the warmth seeping through again. She nodded and squeezed his arm. He nodded back.

He waited until she made to move forward to start walking and when she did, he stepped surely but also mindfully, slowing immediately when she hesitated one step into the ballroom. A step later they came to a stop, two steps into the room.

All the lights were on. No dark corners. No shadows.

Ruth raised her chin and took a good look around to make her eyes see what her subconscious struggled to fully understand. There was nothing in this room, about this room, that should have scared her, yet she found herself unable to lift her foot for another step.

Draco stood with her, silently waiting, and took her back through the door when she squeezed his arm again.

“Same time again tomorrow?” he offered and she found herself nodding so quickly that it took her a moment to realize that she had. As soon as she released his arm, he turned and disappeared. She watched his back, saw that his shoulders drooped a moment too early for the corner he was turning to hide how the tension left them. She breathed deeply and called for Neesy.

The next day, Tuesday, five days to the ball, he was already there when Neesy brought her and he waited silently as she thanked the elf, then just as silently offered his arm when the elf was gone.

Passing the threshold was easier this time but she only made it about five more steps than the day before, seven in total. He stood there again, holding her hand on his arm, covered by his other hand, waiting silently and patiently until she was ready to go.

“Draco, tomorrow,” she said before he could leave her so quickly again. He stood still, looking at her. “Will you be there?” she asked quietly, hesitantly, unsure of how to ask, of if to ask at all, but also needing to. He hadn’t been there the week before, when a team of healers and mediwitches had come and she had felt like a cow. She’d been alone then, hadn’t wanted Narcissa to be there while they implanted his seed in her, the process magically enhanced but the mechanics much the same as in the Muggle world. There was only one way to bring a baby to her womb, and she had been alone.

She didn’t want to be alone again, tomorrow, when the healer came back to check if it had taken. She also didn’t want Narcissa there, in case it hadn’t. She wanted him there and two days ago she hadn’t felt like she could ask him but he was here now, wasn’t he? He had met with her again, been good to her even if it was such a small thing as helping her get comfortable in the ballroom. He still didn’t talk to her much but she wanted him there.

“If you wish,” was his answer and it was as short as possible. She swallowed down the sting that wasn’t supposed to be there because he hadn’t talked to her much, hadn’t been there in weeks.

“I do,” she made very clear and he gave a nod. “Eleven a.m.”

He inclined his head again and she let go of his arm. He left the same way as the day before only this time his shoulders remained squared until he was past the corner.

~*~*~*~


	12. Preparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, the appointment and (the moments before) the ball, symbols of the favor Draco has asked of Ruth: a wife and an heir.  
As always, I'm looking forward to hearing from you and thank everyone that has commented, given kudos and subscribed since the last chapter.  
Hope you enjoy!

~*~*~*~

She couldn’t hear. She couldn’t hear a thing the healer was saying. She couldn’t hear what the healer was saying after she had confirmed it had taken.

She was pregnant.

She turned her head, looked over to her husband who was standing near the examination table the healer had brought. There was a smaller team today, just the healer and one mediwitch, and she didn’t have to put her feet in the stirrups. She remembered the week before too well though.

Draco was in the room, he was standing near the table she was lying on but not near enough for her to reach for him. His face was unmoved after the healer’s announcement and she blinked harshly against the tears that wanted to come.

Everything the healer said went right over her head but eventually she stopped talking and Ruth must have understood the permission to get off the table because she did that, and then the healer had packed everything up and left, and Draco turned to leave right after and she-

“Draco,” she called out to him but he only stopped at the door for a moment before he walked through it.

She didn’t feel up to meeting him at the ballroom in the afternoon, and she didn’t feel up to Neesy’s increased fussing now that Miss Ruthie was pregnant with Master Draco’s baby, and she didn’t feel up to Narcissa’s teary congratulations. For some reason she had held out hope for this, had held hope that the news of her pregnancy could break through that barrier he had put up but it hadn’t and it hurt.

Why did it hurt so much? He had never pretended, had never acted like this was anything but a marriage of convenience. The terms of their marriage had been established so clearly, he had made them clear from the very beginning. A wife and an heir. There had been nothing about amicable terms, nothing about being anything but two people living across the hall from each other who also happened to have a child together. And yet she had hoped, he had made her hope with his attentions and thoughtfulness, with all the help and comfort he had offered. But that was all on her, all on her hopes, on her interpretation of something that wasn’t there.

How could she do this? How could she have a child with someone who would barely speak with her? They used first names and he was perfectly polite as she expected he would be in the presence of their child, whether she was there as well or not. He wasn’t likely to speak ill of her to anyone, especially not their son, but the boy would still know his parents rarely interacted, wouldn’t he? He would learn from his father to respect his mother, his grandmother, women in general, but he would not learn a warm, friendly if not loving relationship from his parents. How would he go on to find warm and loving connections himself if he couldn’t learn it from his parents? She had learned from her parents and the memories were sacred to her even if they hurt.

With vengeance something welled up in her that she hadn’t expected, hadn’t thought would come so soon, but she missed Hannah. She couldn’t talk to anyone about this at home, not Draco, not Narcissa, the elves were out of question too. And she couldn’t talk to Hannah either, could she? Because Hannah had thought this was a mistake from the beginning and if she told her how lonely she felt, how distant Draco was, Hannah would feel validated in her concerns which maybe were right but all those nasty words were still in Ruth’s head and she just couldn’t…

She spent the rest of the day in bed, nibbling on the crackers, sipping on the tea Neesy brought her, and staring out of the window. That was one of the best things she had done when renovating her rooms. Her bed was now in a corner by the windows and she could look out into the gardens from the safety of her mattress.

~*~*~*~

It felt different entering the ballroom the next day. Only one more afternoon for rehearsals and then Saturday would be a whole day of whatever Narcissa and Neesy found necessary to do in preparation for the ball in the evening.

Her chin raised high and her self closed off as much as she could manage (which was not very much) she made it to the middle of the room this time. The door seemed quite far away from this point but she made herself do it. She only had one more day.

“How do you feel today? You look pale.”

Her head swiveled to look at him, only to find him examining her with the slightest furrow between his eyebrows. He resembled his father a lot but there was also much of his mother in him.

“I’m okay,” she answered quietly and turned her head to look at the back of the room. On Tuesday there had been drapes along the walls in fairly regular intervals but she hadn’t taken much note of them. Now she did because they had been pulled to the sides and revealed double French doors through which you probably had access to a part of the gardens that she didn’t know yet. The ballroom was at the other side of the house than her rooms.

“They lead out to a terrace and beyond that into the gardens,” he explained, having followed her gaze. She nodded shortly. “The doors will only be opened for fresh air, the terrace will not be in use on Saturday.” She nodded again and completed the turn, letting go of his arm to do so.

“Your dress suits you very well.”

She looked down herself, taking in the dark green of her ankle length dress, with an even darker green paisley pattern and an empire waist with cuffed sleeves. She liked the dress too, liked how light and flowing the fabric was and how the sleeves billowed from the slim cuffs at her wrists.

“Thank you,” she replied politely and moved to face the entrance doors again. He offered his arm immediately, she took it and he led her back out of the room. She released him immediately but he lingered for a few moments.

“If you find yourself unwell,” he began and paused for a moment, “because of…” He didn’t say it and looked uncomfortable even so. “Pospy will know plenty of remedies. My mother as well. She…” He looked off into the distance for a moment. “It was difficult for her,” he finished finally and glanced at her.

She nodded because she didn’t know what to say.

“Tomorrow…” Apparently he was not quite finished yet after all. “Tomorrow, if you find it agreeable, we could rehearse the first dance. I chose a waltz.”

_He_ had chosen a waltz, huh? She bit back a comment.

“I know how to waltz,” she told him and it came out a little sharper than she had intended, she could see the effect it had on him. He straightened his shoulders more and nodded curtly.

“Very well.”

“We can still… inspect the room,” she said quickly and berated herself immediately after. Inspect the room? What rubbish she was spouting again. “I think your mother mentioned that the tables and chairs would be brought tomorrow.”

“Indeed. Same time tomorrow then.” He turned on his heels and disappeared.

~*~*~*~

The room seemed entirely different with the tables and chairs in it and the beginnings of some decorations. The house-elves working on them paused for a moment upon their entrance but Draco just gave a short nod and they went back to it.

“Oh, I love fairy lights!” Ruth marveled at the lights some of the elves were lining the ceiling with. “Like twinkling little stars.” The skirt of her dress flared out softly as she turned a circle, disengaging from her husband’s arm for a moment. Then he got to watch her turn another circle, making her dress fly even more. By the time she had swung around for the third time, he had control of his features again.

She stopped before she started feeling dizzy but her skirts swinging around her was such fun, no matter what age she was. Draco looked mildly amused at her antics and offered his arm again when she finally stood still. She took it but didn’t move from the spot. In fact she held his arm a little tighter and her other hand came to grasp his arm by his wrist, a move he thought to be more subconscious as she looked around, eyes gliding over the tables and chairs.

“It seems like a lot of people are coming,” she remarked quietly and the fabric of his robe’s sleeve crinkled under her fingers a little more.

Written between the lines of her words were many things. Concern over the size of the crowd, a certain amount of being overwhelmed by the idea of having this ball to celebrate their wedding, but most of all there was a question, a worry.

“As far as I am aware, only a few minor guests have declined the invitation. No one from your list certainly,” he answered it directly. Her second hand released his arm whilst she nodded lightly. “We will most certainly be the center of attention tomorrow, Ruth,” he said as he faced her fully. “But do not, for one moment, doubt that whenever you feel like it is too much, that you need a break or even just want one for the hell of it, you will have it. I would be a terrible husband if I intended to stray from your side much at all tomorrow.”

Ruth glanced at him and nodded stiffly. So he would stay by her side when other people were there but when it was just them, he would be absent. Wonderful.

“I’d like to go back now,” she told him and he led her out of the room at once.

“Have I said anything that upse-“

“I don’t feel very well,” she stated and felt equal parts terrible and justified for using that excuse. Draco stilled at once, eyes searching her face and body in a rare show of worry. A rare show of anything on his face really. “I think I will lie down for a bit.”

“Of course.”

He brought her back to her door, holding her arm tightly and always keeping a close eye on her. Without a word she went through the door and straight through into her bedroom, barely sliding off her shoes before she crawled under the duvet and pressed her face into the pillow.

How was she going to do this? The ball, the baby, staying here, staying married to him for twelve more years? Was it always going to be like this?

~*~*~*~

The morning of the ball was the first day she spent hunched over the toilet, eating backwards whatever it was that was still in her stomach from dinner. At a week and a half pregnant, she doubted it was pregnancy hormones causing morning sickness already so the other explanation were nerves. The reason for her nausea and vomiting didn’t really matter too much though, they were there, that was the unfortunate and unfavorable matter.

Neesy fussed terribly and sent her straight back to bed, providing tea and crackers and then Narcissa showed up, looking much too worried until Ruth was able to assure her it was just a little sickness and she felt otherwise fine. It reminded her of what Draco had said, that Narcissa knew many remedies for pregnancy ailments, that it had been difficult for her. She didn’t ask though, she never asked and not because she was trying her hand at being observant (which she was practicing though). Just like she wasn’t going to push on Draco, she wasn’t going to push on Narcissa. She was still new to this family and she wanted to remain on good terms with them. She needed to.

In order to appease Narcissa, Ruth stayed in bed until the early afternoon at which point Neesy began to prepare her for the ball. Under the practiced elf-hands, Ruth started to feel calmer. Someone playing with her hair had always done that.

It wasn’t until she stepped into the dress, aided by Narcissa as well as Neesy and Pospy and two other elves, that it all came together. She could scarcely recognize herself in the full size mirrors Narcissa conjured up.

There she was, in the champagne colored dress with the golden embroidery that she had chosen all those weeks ago with Narcissa, barely able to believe it when she had tried on the shop sample, barely able to believe it as she now wore the bespoke dress fitted just for her. Her light brown hair was half up and fell over her bare shoulders in soft waves, an intricate comb tucked into the strands at the back of her head somehow matching both the rest of the understated jewelry as well as the elaborate embroidery on the dress. Pearls and precious threads in shades of gold formed a delicate pattern of flowers and tendrils, covering the slender straps resting on her upper arms and lining the bodice, swirling out at her hips where the bodice and the skirts met. The pattern repeated itself in some parts of the lower half of the dress, flowing into the fully embroidered hem at the bottom of the skirts that fanned out around her aided by the crinoline and then a substantial amount of magic, of course. A dress so elaborately embroidered with that much skirt should have been heavy, weighing down on her. The corset should have felt restrictive as it shaped her torso. But it didn’t. Everything felt light and comfortable, even down to the shoes. Sometimes she still marveled at magic even though she had lived with it her entire life.

The skirts swayed and rustled softly around her as she turned this way and that, taking herself in, smoothing her hands down the fabric, running her fingers over the embroidery. Never had she should she would ever get to wear a dress like this, a dress that many little girls dreamt about wearing one day, inspired by countless princess books and films and what not. And now she was wearing it, and it felt wonderful, and it looked wonderful. And still, she couldn’t find within her a smile. She looked and she liked what she saw, but it didn’t make her feel much at all.

She did feel something when she approached the end of the corridor that led to the grand staircase, like last time. She felt something when Draco turned at the sound of her steps (Narcissa had insisted she go earlier to greet guests as they were arriving, leaving Ruth to somehow pass what felt like an eternity until Neesy appeared to declare it time to go) and for once, for the first time in weeks, she saw a true expression on his face. An expression that stayed, several moments, as many moments as it took her to reach him, one he didn’t shutter away immediately.

He was stunned, awed, his mouth slightly open, his eyes somewhat wider, taken by surprise and fully captivated as he watched her approach. And then his lips curled into the smallest to smiles that she only really could see because she was so used to their straight line. She felt her lips stretch into a small smile as well and watched, awed herself, when his smile grew with hers.

His hand felt warm around hers when she laid it into his offered one and she swallowed thickly when he lifted it to his lips, the familiar gesture reminding her of the hopes he had closed his door on. When he looked her into the eyes as he lowered their hands again, she could almost see that he knew what she had just thought. He squeezed her hand and continued to hold it while he let his eyes travel over her again. She held still, found herself breathing shallowly while he inspected her from much closer but then he smiled again, so small she could have missed it but she didn’t. It had definitely been there and he wasn’t pretending it hadn’t been, for once, his eyes remained open and honest.

“You look- You _are_ breathtaking, Ruth,” he spoke and his voice, too, was earnest. At the same time as she felt flattered and warmed because of his words, she also felt the same sadness, the same anger, the same resignation she had been feeling for weeks. “Truly magnificent,” he went on, squeezing her hand. “What a lucky and favored man I am to have a wife so lovely and enchanting.” _Favored_…

She suppressed a chuckle but he definitely saw her amusement. “Trust me, there was a lot of enchanting involved in this,” she told him, gesturing along her dress. “Your mother and Neesy know a lot of useful charms.”

“That they do,” he agreed and his eyes found her midsection. “Is this dress-“ He broke off.

“The corset is charmed to leave suitable room,” she assured him quietly and he nodded. “Draco,” she said then and hesitated.

“What is it?” he asked with concern. “If you-“

“I’m not good at small talk,” she blurted desperately, a thought that had appeared to her while she had been waiting to go meet him. “And I don’t know the proper etiquette, and all the rules, and all your guests will hate me because you’re no longer in the Sacred 28 because of me and-“

“Ruth,” he interrupted her calmly.

“I was so busy with my rooms and my wardrobe and then-“ She cut herself off from mentioning all the appointments and preparations that had led to her being now a week and a half pregnant. “I forgot to ask Narcissa to teach me and now-“

“Ruth,” he repeated and brought her hand to his neck, another familiar gesture that made her feel ambivalent now for its comforting nature but also its absence from her life in the past weeks. His pulse was strong and steady under her fingers as ever. “I will be there, the whole time, as I said. And it does not matter to me that you hate small talk and don’t know the etiquette and most of all I do not care what our guests think other than that you are breathtaking and magnificent and that I am lucky to be at your side. Which I am.”

Then why have you been ignoring me for weeks, she wanted to ask. Then why does it feel like there isn’t just a corridor between us but a rift the size of the Channel. But she didn’t ask, she just nodded.

“Now.” He straightened up. “Shall we?” He turned and tucked her hand into his elbow like he had before, covering it with his other hand.

“We shall.”

It was the staircase again, in a wonderful dress again, having her entrance moment again as she walked down the stairs, it was a special occasion again. But there would be other people down there as well this time, and the last time she had felt hopeful for the bond she had with her husband on whose arm she was descending the stairs this time instead of meeting him at the bottom. This time she didn’t know any more about how the evening was to pass either but this time she wouldn’t have the privacy and simplicity of dinner for three and tea in his parlor. This time she had to keep up appearances, this time she was the decoration on his arm, this time she was the show-piece under much scrutiny, watched and no doubt intensely judged by everyone. This time she had to be Ruth-Anne Malfoy, new bride to Draco Malfoy (and living and breathing symbol of his family’s downfall).

She wasn’t breathing quite steadily as Draco led her down the steps but she tried to focus on his steady arm under her hand, on his hand that was still on hers, tried to trust his promise although she was no longer sure of another he had given her weeks before. She had agreed to this, had let herself be maneuvered into this ball by Narcissa, and now she had to live with her choices, just like she had defended to her friends. She straightened her posture a little bit and let the smile come as they reached the bottom of the staircase where Draco turned towards her and kissed her knuckles once more.

~*~*~*~

I am in love with Ruth’s dress which took me ages upon ages to find because it had to be just right. I don’t always have pictures or models for the things in my stories but it can help. I don’t remember exactly how I found it but I’m glad I did. (I find it important to have a good description in the text anyway so that things are clear even without the picture.)

So this is [Ruth’s wonderful dress](https://www.kemedress.com/champagne-ball-gown-tulle-gold-lace-appliques-wedding-dress/), minus the train and veil as they would pose problems for the dancing that is going to happen in the next chapter. 

In preparation for that chapter I have now spent weeks with a playlist I created for it, waltzing and swaying through my flat as I once more realized just how glorious and magnificent as well as dramatic ball room music and orchestras can be. I’ll definitely include a list of links in the next chapter for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in love with Ruth’s dress which took me ages upon ages to find because it had to be just right. I don’t always have pictures or models for the things in my stories but it can help. I don’t remember exactly how I found it but I’m glad I did. (I find it important to have a good description in the text anyway so that things are clear even without the picture.)
> 
> So this is [Ruth’s wonderful dress](https://www.kemedress.com/champagne-ball-gown-tulle-gold-lace-appliques-wedding-dress/), minus the train and veil as they would pose problems for the dancing that is going to happen in the next chapter. 
> 
> In preparation for that chapter I have now spent weeks with a playlist I created for it, waltzing and swaying through my flat as I once more realized just how glorious and magnificent as well as dramatic ball room music and orchestras can be. I’ll definitely include a list of links in the next chapter for that.


	13. Waltz of the Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here it is, the big waltz scene.  
And also a little (lot?) more into Ruth’s background.  
You’ll see :)
> 
> Also, I am going to break my rule and put links within the story so you can listen along to the scenes that way.

~*~*~*~

A hush had fallen over those gathered in the ball room upon their entrance but it had lifted during dinner whilst the guests, a collection of friends, family, associates, and other, had been regaled with courses of exquisite and luxurious delicacies, flanked by just as extravagant and choice beverages.

Narcissa had poured over the seating arrangements since the decision had been made to hold the ball and Ruth had not been much help in the process of figuring out who could sit where without offending anyone nor risking lives. Ruth had agreed to whatever Narcissa had drawn up in the end and she suspected so had Draco. She didn’t know how much input he had offered in the end but the bulk of it all had rested on Narcissa’s shoulders who had carried the weight gladly – and had done a magnificent job.

Still, entering the ball room on Draco’s arm had left Ruth breathless for several moments, seeing and feeling all those eyes on herself, instantly aware that she was being assessed, observed, judged, probably even before she had entered the room. Her eyes flitted over the people until she found a familiar face and relief had washed over her in a soothing wave as she had offered the smallest smile to a friend, a friend who smiled back.

She seemed to have amassed a surprising amount of friends in the process of her marriage, it seemed. Somehow, their numbers had even grown without her knowledge since her wedding day as they filled a table all by themselves. Of course, that was not the table that Draco and here were seated at but it was close, very close.

Draco took care of greeting the significant people in an order dictated by the rules and etiquette Ruth didn’t know. She just went where he led her and smiled and greeted as politely as she could remember whomever he introduced her to. There were scrutinizing looks from the first person to the last, most of them directed at her but towards the end, from the last few people they greeted before they took their seats and dinner commenced, the scrutiny was all on him.

Their table was a story of its own, as were the looks and the words unsaid between the lines of polite greetings. There was much said in the way Hannah and Neville shook her husband’s hand and even more in how Hannah grasped both her hands and kissed her cheeks in greeting. Ruth squeezed her friend’s hands back and nodded, offering a small smile that Hannah gratefully returned.

“Will you save me a dance?” Ruth asked and Draco at her side inhaled sharply then tried to cover with a cough. Hannah and her exchanged a look.

“Of course,” Hannah promised and Ruth also exchanged a look, with a small grin, with Neville.

Aside from the Longbottoms, the company at the table of honor, as Ruth dubbed it, was comprised only of two more persons that Ruth was not as familiar with. Narcissa was sitting with them, naturally, and the woman standing with her had striking resemblance with someone that made Ruth gather that this had to be a close relative of Narcissa’s for the resemblance was to Narcissa’s sister. She was getting better at observing, at least when things were as obvious as that.

“Ruth-Anne, I would like to introduce you to my aunt, Andromeda Tonks, and my cousin, Edward Lupin, though we most commonly call him Teddy. This is my wife, Ruth-Anne.”

Ruth blinked in surprise a few times, eyes flitting from Andromeda to Narcissa and back, then to Teddy. Teddy _Lupin_. Teddy Lupin who couldn’t have been more than five, six years old. Oh Lord.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said quickly, realizing she was taking too long to sort and place her thoughts. Andromeda Tonks, who looked so much like Bellatrix Lestrange who had died at the- And Teddy Lupin, _Lupin_, like Professor Lupin, the werewolf, the one who had also-

A squeeze of Draco’s hand brought her out of the spiral her thoughts had started to suck her into. She swallowed and attempted a shaky smile which Andromeda graciously returned while little Teddy seemed more interested in her shimmering dress.

“The privilege is all ours,” Andromeda told her and placed a hand on her son’s shoulder lightly who looked up and offered Ruth the polite smile and greeting he had obviously been taught to give.

“Nice to meet you, Madam,” he mumbled somewhat shyly, eyes flickering to the sparkling pearls again.

Ruth couldn’t help her small chuckle and she leaned down a little towards him, offering him her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you as well, Teddy. You can call me Ruth if you like.”

He shook her hand as firmly as a child could, visibly chuffed to be offered the greeting exchanged between adults.

“Do you like my dress? I love how sparkly and shimmery it is,” she said to him and his eyes lit up.

“It is!” he agreed eagerly and his hand went out to touch before he snapped it back at his mother’s quiet but distinct warning.

“You can touch,” Ruth allowed him and his little fingers trailed over the embroidery and the layers of tulle. “It’s supposed to be really heavy,” she shared with him in a conspiratorial stage whisper. “So much fabric and all the pearls and all.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked with a small frown, clearly only then considering the weight of the wondrous robe.

“Nope.”

Teddy frowned harder.

“Magic.” She winked at him with a grin and his face pulled into a grin as well as he giggled.

“Magic!” he cried delightedly and returned to his mother’s side.

“Magic,” Draco echoed so quietly that only she could hear it and when she looked at him, he placed his hand on the lower of her back, guiding her to her seat.

The hush befell the attendees once more after the conclusion of dinner. The tables had been cleared and partially replaced by smaller and higher ones so that guests could still sit but also congregate around the high tables to chat. But now no one was chatting and everyone was watching Draco lead his wife onto the area that had been cleared for the dance floor.

Ruth followed him into the middle of the space, trying to breathe evenly, trying to calm her racing heart. She knew how to waltz, she was good at it even, but she wasn’t prepared for [the music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RFpsPk4SZ28) that the ensemble off to the side towards the front of the room was beginning to play. He held her hand this time, allowing plenty of space for her sweeping skirts which swung around her already when they stopped and turned to face each other to assume their dancing position. She recognized the sweeping melodies immediately and her heart pounded hard in her chest again as the pianist trailed out the introductory part that, with a full orchestra, would have been played by a harp.

Draco’s hand went to rest just below her left shoulder blade as his left hand gathered up her right and then the waltz took off, and she was done for.

He had told her he had chosen a waltz and he had but it wasn’t just any waltz, it was the Waltz of the Flowers by Pyotr Tchaikovsky. It was the Waltz of the Flowers and while he led her around the dance floor in the sweeping paces of the one-two-three-one-two-three of the waltz, she could only let herself fall into it because her heart was beating so fast and her head was swimming and the only thing that gave any kind of stability, any kind of calm, were his face, his eyes, and the security of his steps as he took the lead.

_“Mummy, we’re flowers!” Daisy stormed up to her mother, hair still in the high bun it had been tied into before the ballet class the girl had just attended with her sister who wore a similar hair style as well as a similar dancing outfit of tights, a leotard and a flowing, easily twirling tutu. Both girls twirled around to make their tutus fly, hands raised over their heads in their children’s ballet pose._

_“Of course you are,” their mother agreed with a smile, having caught the end of the music the instructor had played at the finish of their class._

_At home, at the girls’ passionate and repeat request, she dug out an old record of her husband’s and put it on, watching with a smile on her face as her little dancers twirled around dramatically but perfectly in time with the Waltz of the Flowers._

_Then, when Daddy came home, he had to dance as well and soon the daughters were twirling around their parents as they waltzed the small space their living room offered after having pushed back the furniture for their makeshift dance floor._

Something had passed over Ruth’s face as the waltz he had chosen had begun and he had feared, for a long, long moment, that he had overstepped once more. But as the song progressed, Draco could feel his wife relax into his hold more and more and with the first time he twirled her out, extending his arm, her skirts flying and swirling, in time with the first high trill of the melody, a smile came to her face that stayed for the rest of the excerpt from Tchaikovsky’s ballet The Nutcracker.

It was obvious that Ruth knew the piece, had some memories attached to it, memories that had caused the expression that foretold of a possible episode, but memories that seemed to fade the longer they danced their way around the floor. The first smile was surprised but the ones that came after, with each turn he took her through, with every time he twirled her out, when he turned her so she was next to him and his arms across her, they were better. Topped only by her laugh at some of the more dynamic parts of the music that he matched with equally dynamic steps and figures.

Her brown eyes started to sparkle and entrapped him into their depth until he had no choice but to pull out each and very stop he had ever learned in the countless dancing lessons that had been forced upon him as a teenager. Each and every move she followed and matched with equal skill and proficiency, beaming at him as the room faded into the background and the only people who were there were the two of them, he and his wife, the woman who was carrying his child, his future, under her heart.

Towards the end of the piece of music who meant so much to her, when the composer was pulling out all the stops and her head was swimming again, not with memories but with all the turns and twists and swirls Draco was leading her through, when she held onto his shoulders as he gathered her waist in his hands to lift and twirl her through the air, Ruth’s eyes found his and for the first time she found something in them she hadn’t ever seen in his tightly contained face. Joy. Draco was enjoying himself and it was in every step he took, every step he led her through, and most of all in the smile that pulled his lips apart when the waltz ended with its climax, followed by applause from their guests that she barely took note of.

He held her hands on his, both of their chests heaving with the strain of their dance but mostly with the exhilaration of it, and his eyes were only on hers, open, honest, unguarded. She looked back, smiling so hard her cheeks were hurting, and squeezed his hands, begging him with her eyes not to withdraw again after this. He squeezed back, smiling as widely as he was able too, not as wide as she was but with him, it felt like a smile that went right around his head.

“I… my mother…” Draco blinked and the moment dimmed slightly. He turned his head to find his mother somewhere at the edge of the dance floor he had just swept over with his wife, with Ruth, looking a little reluctant and lost as they both became aware again that there were other people there, that they weren’t alone, and that they had obligations. Like the second dance belonging to the mother of the groom, and technically the father of the bride only that she didn’t- “You… Longbottom…” He found the tall, dark haired man and then his mother near him, at the same time as Ruth did.

“Oh yes,” she agreed, surprisingly happily, as he slowly walked her to her friend. She laughed quietly at him and squeezed his arm at the furrow she saw between his eyes. “Neville is a wonderful dance partner but he cannot hold a candle to you, Draco,” she assured him and squeezed his arm again. “May I have the next one?”

“Gladly,” he accepted although there really was nothing, or no one, that could have stood in his way to have the next dance with his wife again.

He lifted her left hand to his lips again, kissing her knuckles, and this time it made Ruth feel warm and happy. Until he transferred her hand into Neville’s and offered his own to his mother. Neville was smiling knowingly as he led her back out onto the dance floor and the ensemble began the next dance.

“That looked fun,” he remarked casually while the woman in his arms hummed along with the ensemble and lithely stepped with him around the room, seeming just as comfortable in this dance as she had in the previous one.

“Mmh, [Emperor’s Waltz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AbBx0TTLy0M),” she said more to herself but he nodded, the melody familiar. “Oh, it was fun!” she replied to his comment then, smiling widely, an expression that made Neville smile too. It had been so long since he had seen a smile on Ruth’s face, even longer since he had seen a bright one like this. “He’s a really good dancer.”

“Who woulda thunk it,” he commented dryly and Ruth chuckled.

“I would expect dance lessons to be part of a pureblood upbringing, no?” She looked at him questioningly and he nodded slowly. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed then, well, exclaimed quietly enough not to go over the music though. “Neville, McGonagall and Sprout taught us to dance, respectively.”

“Yes…?” He nodded lightly.

“Does that mean that Professor Snape taught the Slytherins to dance for the Yule Ball?!” she asked with wide eyes and he almost stopped dancing at the idea of the late Professor Snape- No. No, he was not thinking about that. “He probably did!” she giggled at his horrified expression and squeezed his hand. “He’s dead,” she said much more quietly and softly, giving him a reassuring, warm look.

“You look amazing, Ruth,” he told her a few moments later, eyes trailing over her shortly before he looked into her face again.

“I guess I do today,” she allowed slowly and there was a lot that was unsaid in that.

Neville twirled her out before they went on with their little chat and she came back into his arms with a grin.

“This dress is so twirly!” she beamed and he did it again just because of that, laughing when she did.

“Still know all the charms for the dancing feet?” he asked and she nodded quickly.

“How could I forget!” They both thought back to the first ball they had danced together.

_“I’ve got someone for you.” Daisy dropped unceremoniously onto a spot next to her sister at the Hufflepuff table, all the way across from her own house’s table._

_“Good morning to you too, dear sister. Breakfast?” Ruth gave her sister a look and was already reaching for a cup to make up a cup of tea to her sister’s liking, when Daisy waved her hands in the air._

_“Unimportant. For the ball. I’ve got someone for you. But you’ll have to ask him yourself.”_

_Ruth blinked at her sister. “What?”_

_“He’s shy,” Daisy admitted and raised a finger before Ruth could interrupt. “_But_ – a really good dancer.”_

_Ruth closed her mouth and eyed Daisy for a moment. “Who is it?”_

_Daisy turned and peered over to her own house’s table. “Neville Longbottom. You shoulda seen him. McGonagall made us dance yesterday, it was fairly horrifying but he? _He_ loved it.”_

_“Huh.” Ruth looked over to the Gryffindor table as well and found the boy her sister had mentioned. She knew the names of everyone in her year, and in Daisy’s year under her, so she already knew who she was looking for but she hadn’t ever really considered him before._

_“And he likes to dance?” she asked to make sure and Daisy nodded firmly._

_“Definitely.”_

_“Will you come?” Ruth stood from her seat and ignored her sister’s squeal of delight as Daisy jumped to her feet as well._

_“I’m right here,” she promised and squeezed Ruth’s arm. “Here, have some Gryffindor courage.” She patted her sister first on the left shoulder, then the right and Ruth just rolled her eyes at Daisy’s antics._

_Ruth went over to the Gryffindor table, closely followed by Daisy, right up to where Neville was sitting over his breakfast. Daisy gave her a quick nod and made a shoo-ing motion with her hand when Ruth looked back at her for reassurance._

_“Neville?”_

_Ruth really hated people because of course all the people around Neville ceased their breakfasting and so did Neville and now everyone was staring. She took a deep breath._

_“Good morning,” she offered with a quick smile._

_“Good morning, Ruth?” Neville replied, visibly confused. “Hey, Daisy.” He nodded over at her sister and that made him very alright in Ruth’s book already._

_“Daisy said you like to dance,” she blurted, eyes going wide and cheeks burning. “I mean-“ She shot a helpless look towards Daisy who was heaving a big sigh, a very obvious big sigh._

_“…I-I do…” Neville confirmed slowly._

_“So do I,” Ruth told him and tried another quick smile. “Do you want to go to the ball with me?”_

_Neville stared at her owlishly for a few moments and it seemed like everyone, including him and Ruth, were holding their breaths._

_Then finally he broke out of his frozen state and a smile spread on his face. “Yeah! Yeah, of course. Yes.”_

_Ruth had never felt so relieved and nodded eagerly. “Great, that’s… great.”_

The Yule Ball had been a lot of fun and Ruth was still pretty sure that there hadn’t been a single song that she hadn’t been on the dance floor for. At least until the band came on because that wasn’t so much her kind of dancing. Even so, all the dancing she had done, most of it with Neville, had left her feet sore and swollen and that had been when her Mum’s old charms had come in handy, the ones she’d called _dancing feet magic_ and put on their feet after ballet class.

“How is it going so far?” Neville became a little more serious with his question and Ruth craned her neck a little to catch Draco and Narcissa at the other end of the dance floor, Narcissa’s dress much less elaborate and her skirts not as big as Ruth’s but just as swirly. They looked good together too.

Ruth contemplated for a few moments. “Are you busy in early July?”

Neville’s jaw dropped and he missed the next step but found his way back into the dance quickly. “Already?!”

Ruth sighed. “It was done magically, Nev.”

He frowned. “Still. How far along are you then? Can’t be more than a few weeks, right? You’ve only been married for what, four weeks?”

“Four and a half.” She shrugged. “Pregnant a week and a half.”

“Jeeze.” He shook his head. “In a rush to get it all over with?”

Ruth’s eyes went to Draco again and met his as he took a turn with his mother but the contact was broken when they swayed in another direction the next moment.

“He treats you right, doesn’t he, Ruthie?” Neville asked quietly and searched her face for the answer.

“He does,” she answered although how truthful that was… Well, Draco couldn’t treat her very wrong if he was never there, could he?

The waltz wound down to an end then and Neville bowed as she did.

“I’ll catch you for another one later,” he promised but she just chuckled.

“You’ll have to pry me from Draco, I don’t think that’s going to be easy,” she told him as her husband rapidly approached before either of them could be engaged for a dance with someone else.

“No, doesn’t look like it,” Neville agreed but he was grinning as he watched Draco take Ruth’s outstretched hand and pull her to his side almost a little too possessively. But maybe he was right to, too, there were plenty of people who would be wanting a piece, or a dance, of the two tonight and the looks on their faces had made it so very clear that they weren’t much interested in that.

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the inspiration for the Big Waltz was the music (which is magnificent, I put some links below), but also a quote from one of my favorite shows called Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries. In an episode in the third season Phryne (Miss Fisher) talks about how her mother fell in love with her father as they waltzed together and that idea stuck with me ever since. Now I had a chance to use it and it was so much fun, believe me.
> 
> Waltz of the Flowers (P.I. Tchaikovsky) – linked above as played by an ensemble like it would have been at the ball (solo violin, strings, piano/harp), and [played by the Vancouver Symphony (full orchestra)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XwgOWDUlDgY)
> 
> [Waltz of the Flowers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_3D5QS-ClTA) set to the ballroom scene in Cinderella (FLYING SKIRTS! <3)
> 
> Kaiserwalzer/Emperor Waltz (Johann Strauß II) – linked above as played by a string quartet, and played by André Rieu with his orchestra WITH DANCERS IN THE VIDEO <3 (and which sounds LOADS more dramatic with an orchestra WHEW)


	14. Friends, and feet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy weekend, everyone!  
I, for one, could have stayed in bed so much longer than I did but sometimes self-care is also doing the opposite of what your brain tries to tell you to do. Fine line to dance on but today it was the right decision.  
Hope you enjoy the chapter, let me know what you think? :)

~*~*~*~

“You really are a terrible dancer, Harry,” Ruth laughed as the man in question stepped on her toes again. “Let me lead.”

“Gladly,” he sighed in relief and after that it was much smoother for both of them.

“I didn’t expect you to come,” she remarked as they swayed along the dance floor in only the simplest of step combinations. Not too far from them, Draco was dancing with his aunt which was the only reason she had given up her husband for a dance. They had blatantly ignored nearly all other offers made, simply staying on the dance floor until the next song began. But Draco was also an attentive husband and had taken her for a break to sit with drinks for a moment which was when Andromeda had swept in. Hannah was currently dancing with Neville and, going from Neville’s face, as good at it as Harry was.

“Didn’t expect to get an invite,” Harry replied simply and Ruth nodded. “How are you?”

“Pregnant,” she deadpanned and smirked when his eyes widened. He craned his neck for Draco for a moment but quickly focused back on his dance partner when Ruth stepped on his toes. There was nothing accidental about that though. “Otherwise I am just fine.”

“That’s good.” He offered a quick smile.

“Is Hermione going to be okay?” she asked quietly. The sheer amount of her own ball guests stunned her, as did who exactly they were. Not only had Harry come with his wife but for some reason that Ruth would have to find out, Hermione and Ron were there as well. The rest were mostly her Hufflepuff friends, Ernie, Susan and Justin joined by several others, most of whom she hadn’t seen in years either. By Hannah’s look of innocence to Ruth’s look of question, Ruth had an idea of how all of that had come together. Either way, Harry and Ginny Potter as well as Hermione and Ron Granger-Weasley were in attendance for Draco and Ruth-Anne Malfoy’s wedding ball which was all the general public, and the Daily Prophet, were going to care about. Incredible.

“She’s fine,” Harry assured her.

“Narcissa said they tore the old one down and rebuilt it in an entirely different part of the manor so it isn’t the same drawing room where…” She searched Harry’s eyes for a moment but he seemed calm and reassuring so she nodded lightly.

“Are you getting help, Ruth?” he asked her quietly.

“That’s the upside of marrying rich, isn’t it? Don’t have to work, have house-elves, get all the best healers money can buy,” she stated dryly. “I am getting all the help I could possibly have.” Except a present husband.

“That’s good.”

“It is,” she agreed. “Now, you’ll have to excuse me, I have a dance partner to snatch,” she declared as the song ended but instead of heading for Draco, she went straight to Hannah and extended her hand.

“Mrs. Longbottom,” she said formally, curtseying. Neville sniggered off to the side.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” Hannah replied just as formally and took Ruth’s hand.

The next dance was a little slower, but still not considered a slow dance because Ruth was quite sure the ensemble matched the songs to the hosts a little and they hadn’t played one like that since the last dance she’d had with her husband, which was just fine with the two women who each took turns with the leading part, an art form they had perfected over years of friendship.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Hannah said eventually and Ruth nodded. “Congratulations.” Hannah looked her into the eyes as she said it and that was almost all that Ruth really needed, it was all in that look. “I was out of line, Ruth, I am sorry.”

Ruth smiled, feeling so relieved just then that she could have swung Hannah around the room like Draco had her earlier. “I forgive you. Forgive me for not telling you sooner?”

“Oh, you were right not to,” Hannah admitted freely and Ruth snorted to herself. “He’s pretty, huh?”

That made Ruth laugh. “He is.”

“Is he also nice? To you?” Hannah searched her friend’s face attentively.

Ruth let out a sigh and went into a turn to buy a few more moments, something that Hannah didn’t comment on but definitely knew about from the look on her face.

“It’s only been four weeks,” she answered finally.

“Yet you are already pregnant.”

“Which was done magically.”

Hannah’s eyebrows rose.

“We only see each other at dinner,” Ruth admitted softly.

“Oh.” Hannah peered over to Draco who was now dancing with someone Ruth wasn’t sure she knew the name of.

“It’s alright.”

Hannah frowned at her. “No, it’s not. Your face says it’s not.”

“I thought… He was very nice, understanding,… helpful, in the beginning. Before… the wedding.”

Hannah pursed her lips and Ruth distinctly got the feeling that her friend was holding a comment back like the ones she had just apologized for.

“I know that that’s exactly what you thought would happen but I just…” She gave a helpless shrug.

“Well, going from the way you two have looked dancing together tonight and the way he’s shooting daggers at anyone else you dance with, I think you can still slither your way in.”

“Hannah!” Ruth gasped at her friend but then laughed along with her. “That was a terrible pun! And our house animal is a badger.”

“Don’t I know it,” Hannah snorted. “Anyway, here he comes so I’ll see you whenever because I don’t think he’s giving you up again anytime soon. Congrats, Ruthie.” She pressed a quick kiss to Ruth’s cheek and nodded at Draco before she left the dance floor while Ruth was taken back into her husband’s arms.

“Hello,” she smiled at him, embracing the feelings of relief and comfort she had as soon as she was back with him. With him she didn’t have to think about her feet or where they were going or what moves to make next. With him it was like floating over the dance floor, it was easy and fun.

“Hello,” he replied with a smile as well and pulled her a little closer, his feet disappearing under her skirts as well.

“You’re by far my favorite dance partner,” she told him because why the hell not. It was probably more than obvious to everyone else so why not make him aware as well.

“Likewise,” he agreed and she smiled again. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Hannah apologized,” she answered the real question and he nodded. “I danced with Harry, did you see?”

“I saw,” he grumbled and she laughed at him, openly.

“He’s married and so are you, Draco,” she reminded him but he still looked a little surly. “Did you know he was coming?”

“I knew Mother had put him on your list.”

“It turns out I have more friends than I was aware off.”

“That’s good.” He meant his words, she could see it on his face.

For a while they danced in companionable silence, Draco twisting and turning her this way and that again until at the end of the song she let herself fall into his chest, head swimming a little too much to go for the next song as well.

“Time for another drink,” he determined but held her to him for a moment more, a moment she enjoyed almost too much.

Their table was empty when they got to it, Narcissa and Andromeda somewhere after Andromeda had taken Teddy home a while ago but had returned for the rest of the night. It had been a little embarrassing to realize that Andromeda was not Teddy’s mother but his grandmother but fortunately Andromeda hadn’t been upset by it. Her daughter Nymphadora was actually Teddy’s mother and had been Professor Lupin’s wife. It certainly seemed like their family had a knack for extraordinary names and it made her wonder what stipulations Draco might pose for the name of their child.

Draco pulled out the chair for her and an elf brought refreshments immediately. He handed her a glass of grape juice which looked very nearly like red wine in the glass. A good deception to mask her condition which she had shared with a few people tonight but wasn’t ready to share with the rest of the public. Their joined hands were hidden from plain side in the masses of fabric of her dress but that was just as fine with her.

“How did you know?” she asked after she had been watching the other dancers on the floor for a time and turned back to her husband.

“How did I know about the grape juice?” He gave her a knowing smirk. “I asked Neesy.”

Ruth smiled a little and took another sip. “No, I meant…” She sought out his eyes. “The Waltz of the Flowers. How did you know?”

“That you liked it?”

She nodded.

“I didn’t,” he admitted and his face became a little more serious. She rubbed her thumb over his skin softly. “I chose it because…” He hesitated and looked away for several moments.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

His eyes snapped back to hers, suddenly just as sharp and intense as she was used to. “You’re such a Hufflepuff,” he said and the expression on his face immediately after told her it had slipped out too quickly for him to catch himself.

“I am,” she stated very firmly, feeling herself steel herself up again after she had softened under his hands for much of this night.

“By which I only mean that you are far too kind and lenient with me,” he explained quickly. “I chose the Waltz of the Flowers because it was supposed to remind you of why you’re doing this.”

Remind her of why she was doing this? She frowned at him slightly, trying to understand.

“Waltz of the _Flowers_. A _particular_ flower,” he helped her along self-deprecatingly. “Your sister.”

“Oh.” She stared at him for a few moments. “You didn’t need to remind me.”

“I realize that now.” He did look contrite about it a little.

“But you did remind me of my sister either way,” she shared softly anyway. “We heard it for the first time in ballet class when I was six-ish and…” She swallowed. “And Daisy was five, I think. We loved it right away and we made our parents play it on the old record player all the time. We even made them waltz to it for us, we pushed back all the furniture in the living room so there was space.”

Draco was visibly taken aback by her sharing the memory but then he squeezed her hand. “That sounds lovely.”

Ruth gave him a small, sad smile. “It was.”

“So you grew up doing ballet?” he asked and she nodded.

“Until I went to Hogwarts. There were no ballet classes there and the studio wouldn’t take us back just for the summer so…” She gave a small shrug. “But I’ve loved dancing since before I could walk.” She pressed her lips together, sadness starting to rise in her throat.

“Then may I have the pleasure of having this next one again, my lovely wife?” Draco asked, on his feet before she could even really realize, and held out his hand for her to take.

Ruth put her hand into his with a grateful smile and he led her out to the dance floor once again.

Unfortunately, among Draco’s guests were plenty of Slytherins who knew how to slither their way in, as Hannah would have said. It wasn’t much later that Ruth found herself in the arms of one of her husband’s classmates who had expertly and confidently relieved her off Draco in a way that couldn’t be refused. Especially because he now had a new dance partner as well, Pansy Parkinson.

“Nice maneuver,” Ruth told Theodore Nott who was just as good at dancing as Draco was but didn’t make her feel nearly as happy to dance.

“Marrying a Slytherin does have its advantages,” Theodore smirked and Ruth looked surprised.

“Oh. I didn’t know you were married. Congratulations.” She offered him a smile and could tell he was thinking much of the same as Draco had expressed to her earlier. Such a Hufflepuff. Well, if being kind to people and hoping for the best in them and trying to do good onto others made her a such a Hufflepuff then she was just fine with that.

“Thank you,” Theodore replied simply. “Congratulations on your marriage as well.”

He was watching her closely, she knew that, as she gave a smile again, maybe smaller, definitely a little different.

“Thank you,” she said as well.

“We were quite surprised when the invitation came,” he told her. “Didn’t even tell us a thing, the sneaky git.” He was trying to make light of a situation she could tell smarted him, and also trying to weasel more details from her.

“Narcissa and I maneuvered him into having the ball,” she explained an aspect he probably couldn’t have cared less about.

“I see.”

“Theodore, can I ask you something?”

“Theo. Please.”

“Theo.” She looked him in the eyes and found him staring back just as intently. “You’re a friend of Draco’s, right?”

“Once upon a time, we were best mates even,” he said with a good amount of bitterness and she nodded lightly.

“But _are_ you still? A friend of his?” she persisted.

Theo glanced over to where Draco was having a slower round with Pansy just like he was having with Ruth.

“He’s not the same, since he came back,” Theo answered quietly.

“I know,” Ruth agreed softly. “I didn’t know him well but even I can see that.”

Theo’s eyes bore into hers. “You’re the reason.”

Ruth’s eyebrows rose but then lowered as she considered what very well could be considered an accusation. She, the daughter of Muggle-borns, the new wife of Draco Malfoy, the reason he was no longer Sacred. But was she really?

“No. No, I don’t think so,” she disagreed calmly and now Theo’s eyebrow rose. “I think I may be a… consequence of sorts, a result? Maybe a sign, of that change. But I am not the reason.”

Theo considered that for a moment then nodded. “Perhaps.”

“Are you still his friend after tonight?” she questioned and watched his face closely.

“I don’t think Draco is interested in friends anymore,” he retorted dryly.

Ruth kept looking at him.

“I am,” he sighed finally. “Who knew that even Hufflepuffs have claws?”

“Badgers bite, actually,” she informed him sweetly and gave him a matching smile.

“Perhaps they do.” Theo allowed himself to look somewhat amused.

“Keep being his friend,” she pleaded softly as the song wound to an end.

“Keep doing whatever it is you’re doing as well, Mrs. Malfoy,” Theo replied and bowed to her. He gave Draco a smug grin as the groom returned Theo’s wife to his side and took back his own bride.

“Well played,” Draco allowed and Ruth grinned alongside the other couple. “Oh, you were in on it now, were you?” he accused but he sounded far too fond to give his glare any true power.

“Who, me? I’m such a Hufflepuff, remember?” she replied innocently and moved to stand in front of him, placing both her hands on his shoulders. Fortunately the music began again and Pansy and Theo moved away.

“Whatever he told you, remember he’s a Slytherin,” Draco told her right away and his wife gave him a pensive look.

“He told me he’s still your friend after tonight,” she said simply and got to catch a glimpse of surprise in his gray-blue eyes. “How many of them have come, simply to see the spectacle of you taking a Muggle-born bride and losing your place in the Sacre-“

“A whole lot of them,” he cut her off gruffly. “It doesn’t matter.”

“To whom?” she dared to ask but he just sighed.

“To me.” He spoke so quietly she strained to hear him, she couldn’t be sure he even intended for her to hear it.

“And that is all that matters,” she told him though, meeting his gaze as he sought hers. “Make me feel like we’re the only ones in the room again?”

He held her gaze for a few moment, so intense, so meaningful, but she wasn’t able to decipher that meaning. Not yet. Then he smiled, a small smile but the real one and grasped her hand tighter.

“That corset better be laced tight, Mrs. Malfoy,” he grinned and she threw her head back laughing when he swung her about heartily, twirling her out and right back into his arms, right up to his chest.

~*~*~*~

It was late, so late, but she felt oddly awake while at the same shattered by a very long night spent dancing. Her feet burned with every step and although it was still just as light and comfortable as all those hours ago when she had put it on, she wanted out of this dress with all its skirts. It wasn’t easy to lift them in a way that allowed her to walk fairly easily whilst holding her husband’s hand but somehow she managed. She led him right through to her parlor and watched him drop himself into a seat on one of the sofas. It made her chuckle which made him give her a little glare.

“Take off your shoes,” she told him but he just looked at her. He continued to look at her, with increasing surprise then hesitance, when she came over to him and sunk to her knees, concealed by the layers and layers of her skirt that formed a large circle around her as she reached for his foot.

“Ruth, what-“ he started to protest but she just went on, untied his shoe, slid it off his foot and then took his sock as well. “Stop. What are you doing?!” he asked incredulously as she let his foot rest on her lap.

“Can I show you?” she asked in return, showing him her wand to indicate the use of magic.

He nodded slowly and she murmured quietly as she waved her wand over his foot, smiled when he wriggled his toes.

“That is… that’s good,” he admitted, circling his foot a little, and let her remove shoe and sock from the other foot as well. She cast the same charms on that foot as well and smiled up at him.

“My mother’s dancing feet magic.”

She cast another gentle cooling charm, tapping his big toe with the tip of her wand just for fun. He wriggled his toes again which made her giggle.

“Your mother was a clever witch,” he said quietly and met her eyes openly as she looked up at him.

“She was,” Ruth agreed and tapped his other big toe for fairness’ sake before she rose. Draco stood with her and guided her to sit on the sofa corner to his. He then proceeded to go to his knees as well. “Draco, you don’t-“

He deftly removed her shoes as well, she hiked her skirts up a bit to keep them from covering her feet, and then reached for a tin on the small side table, one she hadn’t noticed before then. He opened it and took some of the contents onto his finger, a balm of sorts.

“_My_ mother’s dancing feet magic,” he explained quietly and proceeded to massage the balm into her feet.

“We should combine the two,” she said between sighing happily and with relish as he dug his thumbs into the arch of her foot. “Make a fortune.”

“We should,” he agreed with a small chuckle and continued until all she could feel were warm, thoroughly kneaded feet.

~*~*~*~


	15. Demons of the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the high of the ball comes a new low, of sorts. A lot more background on Ruth and Daisy in this one. Please heed the chapter warnings. Summary in the end notes for those who want to skip.
> 
> Chapter warning: relived trauma in nightmare, panic attack, mention of (attempted) murder (euthanasia), (very) dark magic (curse)

~*~*~*~

A scream tore through the silence of the night. After the last guests had left and the last residents of the manor had retired to bed, the soothing and restoring quietness of night had settled over the house. The scream, shrill and loud, heard through several rooms and walls, ripping not just the screamer but also the other sleepers from their dormancy, put an abrupt end to any comfort and restoration after the long night of festivities.

Lights went on in several other rooms in the house and a number of feet had touched to the ground before the second scream resounded, just as blood-curdling, just as piercing as the first one, maybe even more so.

A flurry of activity started, hasty steps nearing the source of the screaming. Doors ripped open one after the other, then he was there, in her room, momentarily able to see her cowering in a corner of her bed but then pushed back by a wave of magic emitting from her.

There were several wards on Ruth’s room, most of which were fairly standard, some of which were fairly specific. The majority were general protection wards in the broadest sense as well as a few that regulated temperature and the likes. Then there were ones that had been added after the first few days, charms that loosely monitored activity and tied into Ruth’s more personal needs. A fair amount of them were elf magic, tied to Neesy in particular but the house-elves in general. There were another few that tied to Draco and they would have woken him even if her screaming hadn’t, finely tuned wards to alert him to her distress and need of assistance.

He was upright and halfway across the room before his brain had even fully caught up. Remnants of times that caused his bad sleep, when the house had been inhabited by much less forgiving and brightening people than it was now. Then, while he had been away, surprise checks during the night had not been uncommon and he had refined his ability to remain alert even when asleep and to act on instinct.

Ruth was screaming, screaming for her life, he knew that deep down to the bottom of his soul, and he had to get to her as fast as he could. In passing he registered that none of the house wards had given notice but the ones on her room – they were screaming at him.

The lights in her room were already on and he found her, huddled into the corner of her bed where it was pushed into the corner of window and wall. Her hair was both flattened and wild, he was sure she was drenched in sweater, her were eyes wide and haunted, her face drained of color, but her bare arms streaked in violent red scratches. She was shaking and her wand was clasped tightly in her hand – something he had seen less than a handful of times. She was powerful and skilled without it, but with it?

He flew straight out of the door, his fall cushioned only because Neesy had arrived just then. His mother appeared moments later.

“Are you alright? What happened?” Narcissa asked worriedly and hurriedly, helping him stand. Neesy had gone ahead into Ruth’s bedroom, the door open once more.

He could hear her sobbing now and when he cautiously peered around the corner, he saw that she had folded in on herself even more. Neesy was approaching the bed carefully.

“Please, please, please,” Ruth begged in a broken voice, clutching both her wand and her knees to her chest. “Not her, not her. Please, not her. Let me… Just let me… Please. I have to…” Nothing more was decipherable, lost in the quiet murmurs and her crying.

Draco approached slowly, his wand tucked into his sleeve, hands on show and open. Non-confrontational.

“Ruth,” he said quietly, softly, trying not to spook he again.

“They won’t let me see her again,” she whispered and it chilled him to the tone how lifeless, downright soulless she sounded. “I’ll never see her again.”

“Of course you’ll see her again. I’ll arrange everything tomorrow,” he promised immediately, believing it to be helpful but then he stopped, dead in his tracks, when she looked at him. Her eyes, brown as honey, were empty. Almost as empty as the eyes of those his family had been tasked with disposing of while… There was but a glimpse, just a shred, a single ounce of life left in her eyes.

“You don’t understand,” she whispered, devoid of emotion, suddenly calm, too calm. Her hand released her wand and it fell onto the bed. Neesy summoned it discreetly, the piece of wood slowly dragging down the bed while Ruth was still focused on him. The elf stepped behind him, Ruth’s wand clutched behind her small body.

“Can you tell me?” he asked, daring to come to the edge of the bed. She tilted her head slightly and although she was looking straight at him, there was nothing there.

She blinked once and he saw a flash of something on her face, gone with the blink of her eye. Determination, apology, guilt.

“I tried to kill her,” came over her lips and she let out a deep breath. “I tried to kill my little sister.”

He could hear his mother’s smothered gasp behind him and fought to keep his composure. Ruth had demons to fight, they all did, but he hadn’t known this, he hadn’t known that she-

“She can’t hear, you know?” she told him and her chin started to wobble. At once, he knew that they were balancing on the edge of the abyss, dancing on the blade of the knife, threatening to go over the side. “She can’t hear,” her fingers touched her ear. “She can’t see,” her fingers trailed to the corner of her eye. “She can’t smell,” they went down down the bridge of her nose. “She can’t taste,” at last she touched her lips. “She’s caught in here.” She tapped her temple and pressed her lips together, chin wobbling more. “And they can’t get her out,” she choked out, life slamming back into her forcefully, anguish and despair filling her eyes and her face crumbling as she gasped for air.

Draco flew across the bed and gathered her into his arms. His wife, his wonderful, lovely, patient wife who had gifted him with the brightest of smiles just hours ago, collapsed against his chest, clutching at him, burrowing into him like she wanted to crawl inside his body, wailing with sobs that cut right through him.

“They told me,” she cried as he tried to wrap his arms around her as best as he could, “they told me. They said they can’t do it, can’t reverse it. That she’s stuck. Forever. They can’t get her out. They tried. Everything. They said. But it couldn’t be done. So she’s stuck.”

Her hand found it’s way to his throat and for a moment, a short moment, he jerked back, jerked back from the hand that was trying to strangle him, but she wasn’t. Her hand came to his throat and then her fingers found his carotid and stayed there. He relaxed into her touch and clasped his own hand over hers when it started to slip. Her strength was drained out of her completely.

“So I tried-“ She broke off and he closed his eyes, leaned his chin against her head and pressed his lips to her hair. “She deserves to go,” she whispered brokenly. “So I tried. But they didn’t… I can’t see her anymore. I’ll never see her again.”

Draco Malfoy was no stranger to the devastation the war had brought along with it. He had witnessed more unspeakable things than his brain was willing to remember, and he knew of so many more. He himself had endured much, his mother had endured much, as had his father although he was not prepared or willing to take that into account at the present moment. But now it was back, keenly, with vengeance, slicing right through him to the core.

He had been guilty, he was guilty. But she wasn’t. Her sister wasn’t. He had a list of crimes, archived at the Ministry, but her record was empty. Her only crime had been to be born, to parents who were the first witch and wizard in their family in generations. He deserved to live with demons, but she did not.

Eventually Ruth stopped sobbing into his chest, and then she stopped crying into his chest. By the only means that this episode could be ended – exhaustion.

She grew limp and heavy in his arms, her breath evening, her tears ceasing, her grip releasing. Her body felt different in his arms now than hours ago, small and frail. He held her in his arms, lifted her as he stood and cradled her while Neesy changed the sweaty sheets. Carefully he laid her back into her pillows, releasing her to cover her with the duvet. Her brows creased and a whimper came from her throat, her hand clamping around his when he touched it to soothe her. He sat next to her, on top of the covers, intending only to ease her into sleep when she moved towards him. She was not conscious, he knew, but there was something deep in him that was struck when she curled into him and her hand found his neck again even in her sleep. He adjusted his position, half-reclining (mostly reclining if he was honest), and held still as she made herself comfortable with her arm across him.

He jerked in surprise when something was spread over him, his eyes finding his mother’s as she tucked an extra blanket around him. One look was enough, nothing more needed to be said. She kissed his forehead before she left and the lights in the room dimmed but didn’t extinguish. That was just fine with him and he tugged the blanket up over his chest to cover her arm as well.

~*~*~*~

Ruth felt the warmth of the sunlight on her face before she was fully awake and turned her face towards it. She kept her eyes closed, the light too bright even through her eyelids, but she reveled in the warmth and in the fact that sunshine proved a new day, a new beginning.

She could barely remember the night but she had a good idea of how it had gone because she was familiar with it, so familiar, too familiar. She had dreamed, memories, nightmares, then she had woken up and this time her room was still intact the next morning. Because Draco had been there.

He wasn’t next to her anymore but she could tell someone else was in the room, someone who wasn’t Neesy. She rolled over onto her other side, turning her back to the sun to try to open her eyes. She opened one just a small bit, just a slit, the light still bright enough to hurt somewhat but not too bad. As soon as she did, she heard the person move and they, he came to the edge of the bed, into her field of vision.

It wasn’t morning anymore so she couldn’t say ‘Good morning’. ‘Hey’ felt dumb. She didn’t care to know how far the day had already progressed so ‘What time is it?’ was pointless. In the absence of anything sensible to say, Ruth just tried to open her eyes wider and extended her arm towards him.

The mattress dipped with his weight when he sat down and he reached to take her hand, then she felt him kiss her knuckles. The corners of her mouth twitched.

“Are you okay?”

There was a moment of silence and she got to see genuine puzzlement on his face for a moment until it went behind the shutter again.

“I should be asking you,” he replied and turned her hand, eyes trailing over her forearms. She knew why. The skin was perfectly intact now.

“I’m as good as I’m ever going to be after a night like that, and in general,” she told him simply and held onto his fingers as his hand started to slip away.

He nodded then he looked at her, looked her in the eyes and she knew the question before it came over his lips.

“Who was it?”

“Dolohov,” she said, plainly, without any of the anger, despair, grief, hatred, she had felt for the man before. She remembered his face, sometimes, her mind replayed the scene of him casting the curse in her dreams, sometimes.

Draco’s gaze sharpened, his eyes becoming stormy. “He had a penchant for experimental curses, the sick fuck.”

“Yeah,” she agreed quietly. “And he’s dead.” And even if he had been alive, he wouldn’t have told them how to reverse the curse, not even under torture, she was sure of that. There were plenty, so many, other people she knew of that had been cursed by him. None of them had any hope, either they were already dead or wasting away. He had taken their lives, one way or another.

There was a moment of quiet and she got more comfortable on her back, careful not to dislodge his hand.

“I understand.”

She looked away.

“Ruth.”

“Can you play it again?” she asked brokenly, closing her eyes that burnt with the rise of new tears.

The mattress shifted with him as he scooted towards her. He touched her chin, ever so lightly, but she wouldn’t look at him.

“I know you have no reason to trust my promises,” he whispered to her, holding her hand in both of his now. “But I promise you this.”

She swallowed thickly, the tears running down her cheeks.

“I will do whatever I can. Either way,” he vowed and then he kissed her forehead and she choked on a sob. “Either way, Ruth.”

She nodded and curled her hand around his wrist, her fingers finding the place where his pulse beat.

“Can you play it again?” she asked, again, and hummed maybe two notes of the recognizable melody before Draco quietly called for an elf, requesting the record player and a particular record.

Moments later she heard the wind section begin the intro and exhaled a slow, relieving breath. The harp sounded so lovely this time, although the pianist had done a decent job the night before. Then the strings began the familiar rhythm, the horns coming in with the melody, and she could feel her feet twitch with the urge to move to it.

He pressed a kiss to her knuckles again and then, with sure and deft movements he had her out of the bed and standing. It made her head swim for a few moments, her body adjusting, and then he took her hand and placed it on his shoulder and took her other hand into his and then they were off. Tears were streaming down her face in moments and he held her much, much closer than he had the night before but it was the same secure and comforting feeling, being led by his sure steps and his strong hold. She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, her feet following his as he waltzed her around her bedroom.

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary:  
The household awakes to Ruth’s screaming, she has had nightmares and is now completely out of it, blasting Draco out of her room as he comes running to her. As Draco tries to calm and comfort her, she confesses to him that she tried to kill Daisy. Daisy was cursed and can’t hear/see/smell/taste/feel anymore and nothing can be done to reverse it, so Ruth tried to redeem her. Now she is no longer allowed to visit/see Daisy.  
After Ruth falls into exhausted sleep, she awakes to Draco still in the room with her. He asks her who did it, it was Dolohov who is dead and wouldn't have revealed the counter-course even alive. Draco tells her he understands and promises her that he will do what he can - either way. Ruth then asks to hear the waltz again so Draco has it played for her from a record and then dances with her to it as she cries in his arms.


	16. Thankful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There has been very little response to the last chapter, which both surprised me and also doesn't. It was a very heavy chapter, and very different from what we had encountered lately. Nevertheless I would love to hear your thoughts, on the last chapter, on this one, on the story as a whole, on your ideas, questions, wishes, etc.  
This chapter is much "nicer" again so I hope you enjoy :)

~*~*~*~

He was there. She knew he would come and there he was. He was by the doors, behind her, and so she allowed herself the small smile before she turned to face him. She made one simple gesture, extending her hand towards him, to call him across the room, to her.

The ballroom was less magical without all the decorations and lights and flowers but it was still impressive and grand, and she liked it. Without all the people and the table and chairs there was so much more space.

Draco came to her and took her offered hand. Without speaking, he pulled her into his arms and seamlessly transitioned into the familiar one-two-three. This time Ruth was not able to hide her smile.

“Are you busy?”

His steps didn’t falter but there was a small crinkle between his brows momentarily.

“Narcissa mentioned you were.”

The crinkle smoothed with his understanding and he inclined his head slightly, neither a nod nor a shake. “Not too busy to dance with my wife.” He twirled her out and caught her back in his arms when he pulled her back.

Without any music there were only the sounds of their steps but they were perfectly aligned, perfectly rhythmical. Ruth’s imagination supplied some music, very simple, just something to keep in time.

“How are you?” he asked after a stretch of silence. “Have you been sick much?”

Ruth bit the inside of her cheek. She still wasn’t good at Slytherin-ing her way to find out more about him but they were clearly keeping tabs on each other. She wondered if Narcissa was orchestrating them the same way she had orchestrated the ball. Even if she was, Ruth found she didn’t mind.

“Every now and then,” she answered truthfully. “Not every day. I’ve developed an aversion to mushrooms, which is tragic, but found an appreciation for cheddar, which is surprising.”

“Cheddar?” He looked at her, visibly surprised.

“Mature, sharp cheddar in particular. I could eat it by the pound.” She nodded, amused herself. She had never had much of a liking for particular cheeses but one afternoon Narcissa had provided a cheese board and Ruth had fallen in love with cheddar. Neesy brought her some as a snack often now.

“I suppose you could,” he pondered out loud.

“Don’t give me any ideas,” she chuckled and twisted herself under his arm to dance side by side for a bit.

“But otherwise? Are you well?”

Now that she was next to him, she had to turn her head to look at him and she did for a few moments, a few steps. “You could already know the answer if you were at dinner more frequently,” she said, quietly, almost carefully, well aware that it was an advance she had not dared before.

He turned her back to facing him but didn’t meet her eyes. “There is family business I need to take care of.”

Ruth watched him for a few moments and then trusted her intuition once more. “There is not much to go on, is there?” she asked quietly and his eyes snapped to hers. “I don’t think he had any close family and those he was close to in his ranks are all dead or imprisoned.”

Draco eyed her for a moment before he gave a small nod.

“Thank you.”

“You shouldn’t thank me,” he replied gruffly and the only reason he didn’t end their dance was because she didn’t let him.

“Why shouldn’t I?” she asked, simply, plainly, without any hint of judgment or preconception.

He gave her an almost angry glance. “There are plenty of reasons.”

“All of whom are not to be talked about, naturally.” She didn’t know where this was all coming from, why she was needling him, why she couldn’t stop prodding for answers to the unasked questions. Maybe it was because he was absent most of the time for dinner but she had finally made the connection of the blanket neatly folded on one of her parlor sofas. She hadn’t asked Neesy directly about it but she had implored when the blanket had appeared and the elf had hesitantly told her the blanket had been provided about eight weeks ago. Ruth knew.

Draco didn’t say anything and Ruth accepted it. Her husband was not going to volunteer any information he did not want to give and it was clear without him saying that he didn’t appreciate her prodding.

“Do you think we’ll get any snow soon? I watch the gardens from my room every morning and it seems like it is getting colder. There’s been some frost the past few mornings.”

If he was surprised or taken aback by the blatant change in topic, he didn’t show it.

“The days are getting shorter and shorter but there’s still plenty of daylight through the big windows,” she chattered on. “It’s quite cozy that way, watching the frozen world from the comfort of my big, warm bed. Neesy brings me tea and toast and I just watch the world outside from there.”

He didn’t ask her to keep talking but she did anyway. He was listening, she could tell that much.

“Narcissa has suggested a few things to do. We’ve been preparing wreaths to hang around the house and planning the Christmas feast. Naturally, Mitzy has been plying us with samples. I suggest you prepare to roll out of the dinner room.” She smiled to herself, thinking of the sample platters that had made up lunch for almost every day in December. Christmas was drawing very close.

A twitch from the corner of his mouth.

“Out of all the things she suggested, do you know which one I like the best? It’s so ridiculous really, here I am, married to a rich pureblood and what hobby do I take up? Embroidery. How cliché but it really is fun,” she chattered on, leaning into the turn he led. “I finished the small ones she gave me so quickly, she’s now given me a huge piece. That’ll keep me busy for quite a while, I would say!”

Their steps were slowing down and that was okay with her. She had lost track of how much time had passed but it didn’t matter because the time they had spent had been significant.

“It’ll fit perfectly on a wall in my parlor, she has such a good idea for colors and interior design.” She hesitated for the shortest moment, heart suddenly beating a little harder, but then she went for her last advance. She looked up at him as they came to a stand, in the middle of the ballroom, and met his eyes.

“The sofas she chose are really just so comfortable, aren’t they?” she asked quietly and squeezed his hand, hard, as he made to pull away immediately. She held onto him, strongly, and held his gaze. When he stopped trying to dislodge himself, she released her grip but her hand remained in his and her other on his shoulder, he didn’t shake her off. “I don’t understand you, Draco,” she told him, softly, quietly, gently. “But I see what you do and I thank you for that.”

He held her, very stiffly as compared to when they had been dancing, and swallowed before he gave a short, sharp nod.

“Same time tomorrow?” she asked, on a whim, and to her surprise he nodded again. “Maybe you can bring the record player.”

“I will,” he promised, stepped back from her but kept her hand on his. He kissed her knuckles before he left the same way he had come.

~*~*~*~

Ruth sat in her bed, leaning against the pillows stacked behind her against the headboard, twirling a pen she had found in one of her boxes between her fingers, occasionally tapping the back of it against the cover of the notebook she had asked Neesy for. Down in the garden, everything was covered in a white layer of frost and she just found it so beautiful, she couldn’t stop looking.

Then she sat up straighter and opened the notebook, perched against her propped up knees. She clicked the pen and started writing.

She was looking forward to dancing with Draco again in the afternoon but until then she had plenty to think about from yesterday. Most of all, there were the things she had mentioned towards the end. She hoped he had understood what she had tried to say between the lines because he never would have accepted it if she had thanked him directly for them.

_New home_, she wrote, trying to write tidily but only somewhat succeeding. Her sister had always been the one with the beautiful handwriting. _Big bedroom with tall windows. Garden to watch._

Her life after her wedding was a package deal, it was impossible to say which aspect had which amount of influence but they all mattered. Many days were still difficult and heavy, nights were like Russian roulette, but so much was better.

Just being able to look outside into the nature was incredible. Her tiny flat had had windows but only looking out into a dreary backyard of pavement with little sunlight coming through. Now she had so much sunlight, or at least natural light when the sky was overcast. She had watched the seasons turn from fall into winter and she was looking forward to watching winter turn into spring.

Her bed was so big and so comfortable and always perfectly warm and cozy. It was like a safe island she could always hide in and from which she was still able to partake in daily life when Neesy brought her breakfast and Narcissa came for lunch.

_Neesy_, she wrote quickly, smiling softly to herself. The little elf was incredible and she considered her a friend. In the time she had known her, they had already come so far. With making friends with Neesy and Pospy, Narcissa’s elf, a few other elves had started to appear lately, like Mitzy who was in charge of the kitchen and Gibmy who had distributed their wreaths for them. She always treated them kindly and patiently and reveled in how they seemed to return the sentiments. She already had a plan for a letter she wanted to write in the new year but she had to think on it a little longer.

How much easier life was with a little help, especially on those difficult days. She never had to worry about going out to the shops anymore, never had to go to a nearly empty fridge and force down something that she didn’t feel like eating but had no energy to go out to buy. Anything she wanted, anything she needed, could be brought to her. It was incredible what that did for her self-esteem and her self-respect. Not having to ruminate in dirty clothes because she couldn’t manage doing laundry, not having to see her dirty, stringy hair in the mirror because Neesy washed and braided it, not having to remember to change the sheets on her bed regularly so they smelled nice and didn’t turn gray with use and gave her pimples on her chin because the pillowcase was dirty on both sides. Yes, she was thankful for that.

And then _Narcissa_. Her mother-in-law. An incredible woman whom Ruth admired even though she didn’t know how to tell her. Someone who didn’t understand Draco either, she could tell, but someone who so fiercely had her son’s back that it didn’t matter. He went, she followed whilst still keeping his path clear. Narcissa was something Ruth hadn’t expect, couldn’t have dreamt of even if she had dared to. From what Draco had told her before their wedding, Narcissa would have been distant, someone who lived at the manor as well but they rarely interacted with. Now Ruth saw her every day and Narcissa was just as important in her daily life as Neesy was.

The entirety of her rooms, the entirety of the contents of her wardrobe, her newfound hobbies, it was all down to Narcissa.

_Hobbies_, Ruth scribbled and shook her head to herself. _Embroidery_, she added. Her fingers itched for her current project, wanting to continue to put little x’s in different colored yarn onto the heavy fabric to build the pattern, the picture, that had come with it. Sweeping meadows with different flowers and grasses, a few bushes and trees in one corner. It would look wonderful on one of the green walls, if she could finish it eventually.

Having hobbies was something that blew her mind. She had time for it now, energy for it now, to do something solely because she enjoyed it. It was like having lunch and tea with Narcissa, just something she liked to do so she did it. _No work_ was eating up her energy and leaving behind a shell of exhaustion.

_Dancing_, she wrote thoughtfully. He was so good and dancing with him was just perfect. He had not stepped on her toes ones, he never lost the plot so to speak, he always led her surely and safely. It came as easy as walking with him and it was perfect.

_Draco_, she added and ran her fingertip over the letters. She still didn’t understand how it was that he had chosen her and she was now here but he had and she was. He had given her so much and although he was seldom there in person, she always he knew he was paying attention. She still got daisy bouquets, which she replied to with yellow roses, and the blanket on the sofa…

She had cried. When she had made the connection finally. Her first nightmare had been weeks ago, right after the ball, and there had been nights like it since but not all of them had been as bad. She didn’t sleep well, hadn’t in years, but better than before. She hoped he transfigured the sofa before he slept on it, that he made it longer to fit his height, and that it was comfortable enough to find at least some sleep on. She contemplated for a moment of lengthening it herself but it would look out of place and Narcissa might ask about it, although Ruth wasn’t sure if Narcissa didn’t already know. She could place some cushioning charms on it though, she resolved, and she could make sure that Neesy subtly made sure he was comfortable enough.

As far as she could remember, the blanket had been there since that night. She couldn’t be sure if that meant he really was sleeping on her sofa every night but it did feel like something he would do. He never said anything really, to comfort her, not much at any rate, but he did plenty. Sleeping on he sofa to be nearer was just the kind of thing she could see him doing.

There was much she was thankful for and she hoped Draco had understood that.

~*~*~*~

As promised, Draco came to the ballroom in the afternoon, his personal elf, Kinsy, bringing the record player, Neesy carrying a large box that was no doubt filled with records. The elves set the music player up and disappeared while he reached out a hand for Ruth this time and she came to him.

“Good afternoon, Ruth,” he greeted her, kissing her knuckles and then turned to choose a record from the player. “How do you feel about Strauß?”

“Which one?” She gave him a small grin and he nodded in approval. Father and son were both called Johann Strauß and had worked together a lot. She didn’t exactly know how much but she did remember that on her father’s records, it had always been signified which one was meant by adding ‘son’ to, well, the son’s compositions. “I like all of them.”

“Very well.” He placed a record on the player and positioned the needle. “May I have this dance?” He offered his hand to her again and she took it.

“Gladly.”

He took her into his arms and the music began. Ruth smiled as she recognized The Beautiful Blue Danube which had a more understated beginning only to move into a very full-on waltz a little later. And oh, did Draco give her a spin for that one. He made her turn, and twist, and twirl, he lifted her, he spun her, all the works. She was breathless when it ended and leaned heavily into his arms, trying to catch her breath.

“Well, alright then,” she laughed and saw a quirk in his lips as well.

“Kinsy,” Draco called his elf who appeared immediately. “Bring some refreshments and a chair for the Lady.”

Kinsy did so at once and Draco made sure she was well seated before he gave her a glass of the lemonade Kinsy had brought and deposited onto a small table.

“Don’t you want to sit too?” Ruth asked, watching him sip his own glass standing next to her chair.

“I’m alright,” he replied and she left it at that.

After they had sipped their beverages, Draco chose another waltz and made this one a little more relaxed, though he did twirl and turn her, he did so less frequently and there were no more lifts. Almost like he could tell that she was starting to flag while still wanting to dance, he chose something much slower and much different for their last dance.

Although it was played by a string quartet instead of the usual piano, Ruth instantly recognized it. It wasn’t a waltz, it wasn’t even a real dance at all, but somehow he moved her across and around the room in a dance to it all the same. She closed her eyes and listened, having complete faith in his lead.

The last note rang out and faded and she listened to the quietness of the room for a few moments before she opened her eyes, looking straight into her husband’s as he had been looking right at her as well.

“Clair de lune,” she whispered.

“Is it a memory as well?” he asked, very quietly, the low volume somehow befitting the aura the music had left behind and matching her whisper.

She didn’t ask how he knew, it was probably written all over her face so she just nodded. “I used to play it on the piano,” she shared, mind still far away in the living room where the piano her father had somehow scrounged up had stood, the one her mother had given them lessons on. “It was my mother’s favorite. She taught it to me and then I played it for her so many times.” She swallowed thickly and looked away, over his shoulder. “Draco, when the child is born-“ She looked at him again, desperately wanting to ask him to be there for their child, to be there for his son, that it was okay if he was absent when it was just her but their child, their son, he had to- But none of the words wanted to come out.

He nodded anyway, she didn’t know to what, didn’t know what he thought she was asking of him but it was good for now, wasn’t it. It was all she had, for now.

“Same time tomorrow?” he asked and it was so silly but it made her heart soar.

She nodded quickly. “Yes. Please.”

“Very well.” He bowed and kissed her knuckles then called Neesy for her to take her back to her rooms.

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An der schönen blauen Donau/The Beautiful Blue Danube Waltz (Johann Strauß) – played by [Andre Rieu and his Johann Strauß orchestra](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IDaJ7rFg66A) (again with dancers *__*)
> 
> Clair de Lune (Claude Debussy, Suite Bergamasque) [played by a string quartet](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQIZ9cYnC64)


	17. Christmas glamour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there was a flub up with the chapter titles... It's actually THIS chapter that is called Christmas Glamour which makes heaps more sense because the previous chapter was just... not Christmas-y at all haha  
Anyway, this week I finally wrote something again which also happened to be on this story so you get this chapter because the next one is in the works. Fingers crossed that the next week brings some more inspiration and I can finish the chapter in time for next weekend.  
Hope you enjoy this one in the meantime! :)

~*~*~*~

“Draco!”

He came into Ruth’s parlor, if not to say he ran, and stopped at once when his eyes told him that neither woman seemed bodily harmed nor otherwise in distress. In fact, his mother and his wife looked very content, surrounded by boxes of what a second look told him were tree ornaments.

“Neesy said you needed me urgently,” he said, half a question, half an accusation. The house-elf had come to his study and told him that Miss Ruthie was asking for him to come as soon as possible. He had abandoned his books immediately.

Ruth was now smiling at him and it was off, that smile. It took him a moment to realize that she was smiling the sweetly-innocent smile of someone who was trying to convince someone else of doing something for them. He simply looked at her.

“You’re tall,” she stated and took a few steps towards him.

“I fail to understand how an assessment of the height of my body constitutes as something you need me for as soon as possible.” He eyed her suspiciously.

“You’re taller than me,” she went on. Another few steps closer

“Hardly a difficult task to complete,” he couldn’t help but quip and she pouted at him, she downright pouted at him.

“I’m not allowed to step on stools or chairs or ladders.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him a little from right in front of him.

“For very good reason,” he affirmed.

“I can’t reach the rest of it.” She gestured to the half decorated tree in the corner that he had paid no mind to so far. The upper half had a distinct lack of decoration. “But _you_ can.”

“You’ve called me here to decorate your Christmas tree?” he asked incredulously.

“Please?”

He stared at her and then looked at his mother because he had seen her move from the corner of his eye. Narcissa was definitely trying to hide a smile, badly. He sent his mother a glare and looked back at his wife.

“These are the rest of them,” Ruth told him, taking his arm and taking him over to the boxes which still contained ornaments. “You can just hang them randomly wherever you like.”

He scowled at her but she didn’t falter.

“Or I can tell you where they should go,” she amended easily and handed him a shiny, golden bauble. She hummed for a moment then pointed to a branch. “There, please.”

He hung the ornament and then what felt like fifty others, never noticing that his mother left them at some point. Ruth directed him, Draco hung. In the end, he had to admit that the tree looked wonderful although he didn’t say it out loud.

“Thank you.” She gave him a grateful smile after Neesy had cleaned up and retrieved all the empty boxes and the leftover ornaments.

He gave a short nod and allowed her to convince him to sit down for some hot chocolate before he went back to his work.

~*~*~*~

It was so… unfamiliar. Not because the house and the living room she was in were unfamiliar, she was very familiar with this house. Not because the people in the room were unfamiliar, she knew all of them. But she hadn’t spent a day outside her home, her new home, in more than three months and it felt unfamiliar, almost foreign to be somewhere else.

The invitation to the Longbottom’s Christmas Eve party had come with some of the Christmas cards Ruth had received, all of which she had hung on a length of golden string over the mantelpiece in her parlor. She loved cards, and her friends knew it. For a few days, after she had received it, she had fretted over it, fretted over whether or not she could accept it, whether or not her husband would agree with it, all while knowing that he wouldn’t keep her from it if she wanted to go, that the notion of asking his permission was ridiculous because he would tell her it was, but still fretting over it. Narcissa had seen it in the end, when she had noticed the cards Ruth had hung up and Ruth had given permission for her mother-in-law to look at them more closely. At once it was a done deal and both Malfoys, both _other_ Malfoys because she was one herself now, wasn’t she, had had been insistent she go.

It was proof just how strong her friendship with Hannah still was that she was able to be here now, that she had been here for almost two hours and still felt comfortable. As soon as Ruth had accepted the invitation, Hannah had offered for Ruth to test it, to have trial runs and so she had spent varying amounts of time at the Longbottom residence, no more than a few minutes at the beginning but now several hours.

It was so different, to be some place else again, to be in someone’s home, a flat that didn’t have high ceilings and chandeliers and unknown corridors with dark corners. She knew every corner of this place that probably didn’t surpass the size of her own rooms at the manor. It was decked out in decorations, not ones Ruth would have chosen but ones Hannah liked and so it was perfect. The men were toasting to Harry again, the father-to-be’s cheeks already flushing with drink, while the women sat together and cooed over Ginny’s rounding middle. It hadn’t been as obvious at the ball but now it very much was.

“Alright?” Neville plopped into a seat next to her when everyone stormed over to the pastries Hannah had just pulled out of the oven.

“Yes. You?”

He nodded. “Gonna look like that too, huh?” He nodded over to Ginny who was being supplied a pastry by her husband now. Ruth watched Harry give her a gentle kiss before he went back to get something for himself.

“Probably,” she chuckled, her hand finding the soft swell of her own growing child. Her belly wasn’t very pronounced yet and it disappeared underneath her dresses but she had seen the changes in the past weeks. It wouldn’t be long until it became noticeable.

“Ruth! Have some eggnog!” Ron appeared in front of her and tried to hand her a glass of Neville’s homemade concoction.

“No, thank you,” Ruth declined politely, giving a placating smile.

“’s the good stuff, you know. Nev over here made it,” Ron tried to convince her but she shook her head. “Aw, well, you’re missing out.” He shrugged and took a swig himself.

“I don’t think so,” she replied easily and her eyes wandered over to Ginny again who was now laughing at something Harry had whispered to her. It was blatantly obvious that she was the only one without her partner here and they all knew why.

“No!” Ron’s eyes had gone wide as he looked back and forth between his sister and her. “You and Malfoy- Merlin’s bollocks-“ He managed to look surprised, stunned and a little disgusted all at the same time. “But, but, _Ruthie_!”

She didn’t know where to look, didn’t want to look him in the face any longer but also didn’t want to seem guilty or sheepish by looking away. She was neither ashamed nor apologetic nor guilty about her marriage and pregnancy and he wasn’t-

“Take a deep breath, Ronald,” Hermione interjected, patting her husband on the shoulder. “They’re married, what did you think would happen?” She arched an eyebrow at him and as he spluttered for something to say, Neville laughed and Ruth couldn’t suppress a small grin.

“But, but-“ Ron’s mouth snapped shut and he took a few moments to think. “Ruth, is it- are you-“ He hesitated, feeling not just their three’s attention on himself after his outburst. “Are you safe?” he asked then, more quietly but everyone still heard, Ruth was sure. “I mean, he’s… was in the Twenty-Eight and stuff.”

And stuff. Stuff like five years in prison, monitored wand use for five years and lifetime probation. Stuff like that. For a moment she thought about explaining but then didn’t.

“I am. We are.” She placed her hand back on her lower belly.

“This calls for a toast!” Neville declared loudly, raising his own eggnog glass in the air. “To Ruth!”

Calls of “To Ruth!” echoed around the room and Ruth wished she could have hid behind Neville, or the couch, or something. She wasn’t used to so much attention, never had been, never would be.

“Hermione, can I- would you mind if I wrote to you?” she asked quietly before the other woman turned to mingle again. “In the new year, I mean. It’s not urgent.”

Hermione looked surprised but nodded immediately. “Of course. I’ll look forward to it!”

“Thank you.” Ruth attempted a lopsided smile and Hermione returned it.

“How are you feeling so far? Ginny had a terrible few first months.”

“Okay, I’m out,” Ron declared, faking a shudder and quickly fleeing. Hermione rolled her eyes and shooed Neville away so she could take his seat.

“Not too bad actually,” Ruth told Hermione. “Cravings more than sickness.”

“Anything outrageous?” Hermione gave her a knowing look.

Ruth chuckled lowly. “Not really. I can’t get enough of mature cheddar though. Draco’s joked he’d give me a few pounds for Christmas.”

Hermione laughed. “Not something I would write on my list.”

Ruth nodded. “I didn’t either.” She hadn’t written a list, actually. She had no idea what Narcissa or Draco were going to give her, but she had her gifts ready for them. For Draco’s she had needed Hannah’s help actually but she was proud of herself for thinking of it.

“You look good, Ruth,” Hermione said then, more quietly, just for her. “We were worried about you but you look better.”

Ruth scoffed a little and shrugged. “The privilege of marrying a rich man who can pay for mind healers and I don’t have to work to survive anymore,” she stated dryly, knowing Hermione would understand.

Hermione in turn nodded and took Ruth’s hand, squeezing it. “Write me, okay? Whenever you like.”

Ruth nodded and squeezed back. “Thank you.”

“And congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

A little while later Ruth felt ready to go home. The problem was that her pregnancy had already made magical means of traveling largely unpleasant for her, especially apparating. Luckily Malfoy Manor had plenty of fireplaces through which she could floo which felt even more ridiculous than apparating within the manor. Magical traveling made her nauseas and a little dizzy which she felt as she stood from her spot even without having magically traveled. Had been sitting in the same spot for too long then, she supposed.

“Whoops, I got you.” Neville took her by the arm. “Time to go home, Ruthie.”

“Yeah,” she sighed and saw Hannah throw some powder into the fireplace, sticking her head through. She didn’t know why but it became obvious a few moments later when someone stepped through the fireplace, someone who made a hush fall over the dozen or so people in the room.

“Just a little unsteady,” Hannah assured Draco as his eyes immediately found his wife.

“Got up too quickly,” Ruth added when he strode over to her, ignoring everyone else.

“Are you sure?” he asked, looking her over and taking over from Neville in supplying a steadying arm.

“Yes.” She gave a firm nod.

“Malfoy.” Neville nodded at her husband.

“Longbottom,” Draco replied with a nod himself.

Ruth hated the tension that filled the room now, so different from the warm Christmas cheer that had been present just minutes before. This was exactly why she had contemplated not coming. But nobody else was saying anything and Draco didn’t look like he was going to either so…

“Oh! I saved this for you!” She picked up one of the Christmas crackers Hermione had brought, Muggle ones, not ones from WWW, thank Merlin. Ruth had saved one for Draco and held it out to him. “Pull.” He eyed it suspiciously but did pull on the other end. “Oh, you’ve got a crown!” She picked up the red paper crown. “Well, that just won’t do,” she tutted at the color and waved her hand over it, turning it yellow. “There, much better. You’ve got to wear it, it’s tradition,” she grinned at him, reaching up. He didn’t look convinced, or impressed, but he did hold still while she arranged the paper crown on his white-blond hair. Everyone was still watching, _staring_. “There you go.”

“May we go, now that you have suitably embarrassed me?” he asked somewhat sourly but he wasn’t truly angry, she could tell. Hannah was kind of smirking, Neville looked curious, as did Hermione. She didn’t go looking directly at anyone else, she could imagine their expressions.

“Of course,” Ruth agreed cheerfully and slid her hand into the crook of his arm again. “Thanks for having me, Neville. Hannah. See you soon.”

“So glad you came, Ruthie,” Hannah told her warmly, kissing her cheek as she hugged her. “I’ll come over for tea and see your grand parlor, yes?”

“Please do! It’s gorgeous!” Ruth nodded eagerly and received a hug and a kiss from Neville as well.

Draco led her to the fireplace and threw some floo powder in for her, helping her step through before he followed.

“It really does suit you,” Ruth teased him softly, straightening out his crown after he was through as well. He gave her a look, swept his wand through the air and the crown became green.

“There, that’s better,” he stated smugly while his wife heaved a sigh.

“Fine, be that way.”

“Did you have a good afternoon?” he asked and then pointed out a splat of chocolate mousse she had gotten on her dress. “Certainly enjoyed dessert.”

“Chocolate is my weakness,” she confessed freely.

“And mature cheddar,” he added and her eyes widened. “Oh no. No, Ruth. What a terrible combination!” He looked horrified.

“You’ll never know until you try it! Neesy!” Ruth called for her elf as Draco was now the one heaving a sigh.

Chocolate and mature cheddar weren’t the greatest of combinations in the end, which Draco was all too smug to be right about but Neesy was able to satisfy Ruth’s craving for a sweet and salty treat with wonderful salted caramel which Ruth munched happily.

“So this is what is in a Muggle Christmas cracker?” he asked as she took a sip of tea. He was sitting across from her, on ‘his’ sofa, and had finally taken down the crown, inspecting it. “A paper crown?”

“There’s different things, the crowns, little toys, jokes, not too different from the magical ones, just no hexes and so on. When I was little, I loved the plop they gave when you opened them,” she explained and summoned over her embroidery basket. “Are we having dinner here?”

It was too early to really tell but Draco had been at dinner more often in the past week and he had never missed their afternoon dance. They hadn’t had it today though because of the Christmas party.

“If you wish.”

“Yes, please. I’m too knackered to sit properly at the table.”

“I can g-“ He cut himself off at her glare. “Mitzy.” He convened with the elf about a light dinner to be brought up to Ruth’s parlor and made himself more comfortable, sliding deeper into the seat.

“What were you doing this afternoon then?” Ruth asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

“I was taking care of your Christmas gift,” he told her with a little smirk.

“I see.” She separated another thread from the color she needed and worked it through then eye of the needle.

“Not gonna pester me to find out what it is?” He almost looked disappointed.

“Nope. I love surprises and pestering about them ruins it,” she replied simply.

“I used to scour the entire house in search for my presents,” he revealed and she laughed.

“I can see you do that.”

“My parents must have hidden them with magic though, I never found a thing.” He almost pouted now.

“There was always a large box under my parents’ bed where all the presents were kept.”

“So you always knew what you were getting?”

Ruth shook her head. “We never looked.”

Draco sat up abruptly. “What? You never looked?” He looked aghast. She shook her head again. “The patience in you, woman. No wonder you’re a Hufflepuff.”

That made her laugh again. “I suppose so. My sister was a Gryffindor though.”

He nodded and they fell silent but unlike many times before, it wasn’t an unpleasant silence.

“I’ve reached out to Pansy and Theo,” he said suddenly and she looked up, surprised. He seemed surprised himself that he had said it.

“That’s wonderful,” she told him and she meant it.

He shrugged vaguely. “They haven’t replied yet.”

“If they don’t, I’ll write them a rude follow-up,” she offered and that made him smile a little.

“Would you?”

“Of course,” she promised. “I knew a spell to conceal a howler.” She’d have to work a little to remember it but she was pretty sure she could still do it. “They’d get simple looking envelopes and open them, thinking nothing of it, and there my voice would be, yelling at them for being shit friends.” She gave a decisive nod.

“I’m not even sure they are my friends,” he admitted hesitantly.

“They are. Theo told me so,” she tried to assure him but he shook his head. “Why do you doubt it?”

“They’re not like your friends,” he pointed out.

“What do you mean?” she asked and tried her best to keep her tone even and neutral.

“Your friends, they are… you are…” He searched for words. “Warm. And welcoming. You give hugs and kisses and sit close to each other and make each other laugh and-“

“Come here.”

He stared at her.

“Come here, Draco,” she repeated and put her embroidery frame to the side so she could pat the spot next to her. He stood slowly and rounded the coffee table then sat next to her. Holding his gaze, she scooted up to him, as closely as she had been sitting with Neville earlier in the tiny couch that barely seated two people. Draco looked mildly uncomfortable but also a little curious as to what it was she was doing.

Arching her back Ruth slowly reached out and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, the hug a little awkward from the side but it spoke for itself all the same. Slowly she moved in and when he didn’t pull away, she kissed his cheek.

“What kind of underwear do clouds wear?”

He looked at her like she had lost her mind.

“Thunderpants,” she grinned and laughed when he continued to look at her like she had lost her mind. “Okay, I need better jokes to make you laugh, I see.”

“That was terrible,” he judged freely but she just smiled.

“I’m your friend, Draco,” she told him.

“I’m starting to see that,” he replied quietly and it was by far her favorite moment of the day.

~*~*~*~


	18. Keys of black and white

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the world is a mad and scary place, it always is but especially right now, and staying home because you should/have to instead of staying home because you want to (hi, resident introvert here) does feel so different now. I hope that I will find more inspiration and time to write and maybe offer some relief for that anxiety and fear and, and, and, that I feel and you probably feel as well by stepping out of the real world and stepping into the fantasy world.  
Hope you enjoy!

~*~*~*~

There was a loud scream and Draco shot up from where he had been sleeping on the sofa, that was much softer and the blanket much more cozy since Ruth had mentioned it. It was her scream too but instead of him having to rush into her bedroom to get to her, she was just a few steps from him, hands clasped over her mouth. She was shaking.

“Are you alright?” he asked frantically, almost tripping over the blanket that had tangled itself around his ankles in his haste to get to her. “Ruth?”

She finally looked at him, tears brimming in her eyes, and nodded, slowly. She sucked in a shaky breath and turned her eyes back to the item that had made her shout.

Christmas morning hadn’t been as fun and warm and wonderful in years and her only plan for this morning had been to catch Draco on the sofa so she could give him his present right away. But then she had been sidetracked by the item which had appeared in a corner of her parlor over night.

Ruth swallowed against the lump in her throat, staring from where she was standing at the grand piano that was the same dark brown wood that her furniture was. She didn’t feel able to move, somehow fearful that it would vanish if she stepped closer although she knew that neither Draco nor Narcissa would ever do that to her. Her heart was racing so fast in her chest that she almost felt dizzy.

“Breathe,” Draco told her, coming to her side and taking her arm. She exhaled a big breath and sucked new air in. “Happy Christmas, Ruth.”

Ruth tore her brown eyes from the piano and stared at him for a moment before she surged forward, cupping his face in her hands for which she had to stand on the tips of her toes and planted a hearty, short kiss on the corner of his mouth. Then she tentatively approached the piano.

When she first felt the smooth, cold wood under her fingertips she closed her eyes for a moment, reminding herself to breathe again. It was really real.

There was a light touch at her shoulder and then something soft and warm was draped around her. Draco had brought her robe and also her slippers into which she slid her bare feet. She nodded at him gratefully and quickly put her arms through the sleeves, laying her hand on the frame of the piano again.

“Sit,” he said and it was much more of an offer than a demand as he gestured to the matching bench next to her. She took in a deep breath and sat down.

The keys felt just as smooth and cold under her fingers as the frame had felt, only that they were highly polished, as piano keys were. For several moments she couldn’t bring herself to press on them, even one of them, fretting over-

Did she even remember how to play? There were so many things from before- from her childhood that she struggled to fully recall and maybe playing the piano was one of them? What if Draco had given her this beautiful instrument and she didn’t- she couldn’t-

Shakily she pressed on one of the keys, the middle c. The note rang out full and warm from the perfectly tuned instrument. She took another breath and closed her eyes, her fingers finding keys all by themselves.

The first few notes were very tentative, the rhythm slightly off as she got a feel for the keys, for their size, their weight, for the sound of the piano. From there on the piece developed, grew and swept away with its soft, flowing melody that swelled into an almost furious middle of fast, intertwining notes only to ebb away into the soft flow of the beginning.

It was almost like her fingers were doing it all on their own, Ruth heard the sounds and felt the keys under her fingertips but the music seemed to come from somewhere deep within her, flowing from that guarded place from her innermost through her hands into the instrument to coax this piece from it, and herself. She remembered the hours it had taken to learn it, to practice it and perfect it, and she heard the little imperfections even now but it didn’t matter. It was still there. She still had it.

When Ruth opened her eyes, the world outside, the room and the people in it rushed back to her and for several moments it made her stagger. She had felt far away, at the same time so present as well. Draco was still standing by her shoulder and now Narcissa was in the parlor too, so was Neesy. The looks on their faces were what tipped her over and her chin started to wobble.

“No, no, no,” Draco hurried to say, “it was beautiful, Ruth. So beautiful.”

She nodded faintly and pressed her lips together, fighting for her composure.

“Well, I’m not sure how much need you will have for these, from the sounds of it, but this is my part of it,” Narcissa said and placed a stack of papers and books, held together by a mint green bow. Some of the papers seemed newer whilst others appeared to be old, very old even.

Ruth stared at the stack, easily high as twice the width of her hand. Even without taking the bow off and perusing the papers and slender books, she knew what they were. Sheet music. Bunches and bunches of sheet music.

There was a moment where she had the strong urge to up and leave, to retreat to the safety of her bedroom, under her sheets and to forget about this for a while. But she fought it, she forced herself to keep sitting, to not move. She was overwhelmed and she was sure it was obvious to Draco and Narcissa as well but she made herself sit with it.

Working with the mind healer was hard work and there were many times where she felt things were heavier and more difficult after a session than they had been before she had started therapy again. But there were also moments where she could see the sense in it, where it gave her hope.

One of the biggest things she had to learn again was that it was okay. She was okay. Not in the sense of glossing over all of the terrible things that had happened in her life, but in the way that they had happened and that it was okay that it did something with her. It was okay that she was overwhelmed and hurt and found it too heavy to deal with and struggled to accept it and come to terms with it, and all the other things she hadn’t thought about and felt in so long because she just couldn’t. It was okay.

At the same time she had to learn that the way she had been coping was not always the most helpful, the most healthy. It was okay that she struggled and found things hard to deal with but she had to do it, she had to deal with them in order to heal and to move on. And that was the hard part.

It was okay that Draco’s gift and Narcissa’s overwhelmed her. It was okay that she felt overtaken by memories and feelings and that she wanted to run away. But she had to try to deal with it in a good way, in a healthy way, in a way that was helpful, in a way that didn’t diminish her experience but also didn’t feed into all the coping mechanisms that had accumulated in her inability to go outside.

So she made herself sit there, and breathed – through the lump in her throat, through the surprising flash of anger that went as quickly as it came, through the tears swimming in her eyes, through the pounding in her chest. And as she breathed, and continued to breathe, the ringing in her ears started to fade, her throat became free, her vision returned clear and unblurred, her heart beat comfortingly normally.

Draco’s hand was on her shoulder and somehow she had placed hers on his, and that was comforting too. Instinctively she knew that it would take her days, if not weeks, months, to truly understand the gift he had given her.

“Thank you,” she said, very quietly and a little hoarsely, but from his soft squeeze to her shoulder she knew he had heard.

~*~*~*~

Ruth found that her presents to Draco and Narcissa paled in comparison to what they had given her but both Malfoys thanked her in earnest. For Narcissa, Ruth had embroidered a set of cushions to match the teal parlor. For Draco, Ruth had gotten Hannah’s help who had gotten Justin’s help to order a…

“It’s a portable CD player,” Ruth explained upon her husband’s politely puzzled expression after he had revealed the contents of her somewhat clumsily wrapped present. Carefully she took the box from his hands and opened it, extracting the small electrical device. Snapping the top open made Draco jump in surprise. “This is a CD, compact disk. It stores audio content, and other things, which can be replayed with a device like this, a CD player. This one is portable so it has batteries.” She closed the top and turned it over, sliding open the battery compartment. “It has been charmed to work in around magic and for the batteries to never run out.”

“It… replays audio files?” Draco repeated a little dubiously. “But where does it come from?” He took the player and turned it over this way and that.

“You need headphones.”

He stared at her. “Head-phones?”

She pulled the little buggers from the box to show him. And little buggers they were, she had always lost hers back in the day. Her sister had always had hers tucked away safely, despite Daisy usually being the messier one.

That was another thing Ruth was learning with the mind healer. It was okay to think of Daisy, most of all it was okay to miss her, and to feel that.

“You connect it here and these go in your ears.”

“In my ears?!” He looked like she had just told him that pigs could fly.

“I’ll show you.” Ruth gestured for him to unwrap the other box she had given him, containing a few CDs she thought he might like or ought to give a try. She extracted one and popped it into the CD player. “If you press here, it plays. You can turn up or down the volume here.” She showed him the little wheel at the side of the player. “Hold it next to your ear.” She gave him one of the buds and put the other into her own ear.

Still looking very skeptical, Draco held the ear bud next to his own ear and then his eyes went wide. “I can hear the music!” He pushed the bud into his ear and ripped hers out to put it into his own other ear. He then proceeded to snatch the player from her and started to push all the buttons, frowning when the music stopped, his features relaxing when it restarted.

Ruth let him. She watched him with a smile as he figured the device out all on his own, every feature and every button. He was smart and clever and a quick learner. He even switched the CDs by himself. The moment that really did her in though came a few moments later.

“Mother, try this,” he ordered and put the ear buds into Narcissa’s ears before he pressed play. She jumped a little, obviously not having expected the music or the volume or both but then she nodded slowly. “Where do you get more of these?” he asked his wife while his mother listened to whatever track it was he wanted her to listen to. He tapped a long, slender finger on top of the CD box.

“Many places, there are music stores and shops that sell electronics which have CDs but you can also buy them in supermarkets. Anywhere really.” Anywhere in the Muggle world, that was.

“I see.” He nodded. “You chose these.” Ruth nodded. “Why?”

This time her smile was a little bashful. “I thought you would like them, I hoped? I think some of the music you already know but I also picked a few I thought you might like. They, uhm… They are Muggle music, pop and rock and folk and such.” She watched Narcissa pull out the ear buds and return the player to her son’s hands. “But also classical music, things we’ve danced to and so on,” she hurried to tack on.

Draco nodded again and read the titles on the backs of the CDs. Then he looked up at her and met her eyes, directly and openly. “Thank you.”

She nodded shyly. “I’m glad you like it.” At least she hoped she had read his reaction correctly.

“I still maintain I much prefer live music but this is brilliant,” he replied with a glance towards her piano.

She grinned slightly. “Of course. Let me know when you want to get new ones, I have a contact.” She gave him a playful wink and smiled wider at the mischievous glint in his gray eyes.

“I’ll let you know,” he promised conspiratorially before he stowed his portable CD player back into its box with the utmost care.

~*~*~*~

The days after Christmas and before the New Year were quiet. In some way, and then in others not.

They were quiet because there were no visitors and nothing out of the ordinary happened. Only the festive decorations Ruth had insisted on keeping up longer told of the just passed holiday.

They were not quiet in the sense that the air was filled with sound. Tentatively, sometimes just for a few moments, then longer, then shortly again.

One of those times found Draco standing still in the corridor between his and his wife’s quarters, listening reverently to the sounds coming from just beyond the door behind which he knew his wife to be.

The first note had caught him unforeseen and had stopped him dead in his tracks. Then the note had flowed into another and another and another and another, and now he was standing in the middle of their corridor, listening to Ruth practice Schumann.

He knew that a copy of _Scenes from Childhood_ [1] had been part of the selection which his mother had gifted to his wife. It may have been his copy but the pieces sounded much better coming from her fingers. She began with the first movement, _Of Foreign Lands and Peoples_, but then skipped several ahead to the one which was probably best known of the thirteen in this collection. Draco closed his eyes as _Dreaming_ floated through the door to his ears. He didn’t know if Ruth had ever played these pieces before, though he doubted she was unfamiliar with them if she was familiar with Debussy, but she hardly stumbled anywhere, her fingers coaxing the music from the piano easily and fluidly.

She did stumble shortly after, having moved on to something else, something he could not immediately discern. She began a few a few measures but then faltered, the flow ceasing. He held his breath, unknowingly, at the seemingly lengthy pause then but then she continued to play, the familiar piece which she had first played on her piano. _Clair de lune_.

~*~*~*~

[1] Scenes of Childhood, or Kinderszenen in its original German, is a collection of thirteen short and very beautiful movements written by German romantic composer Robert Schumann in 1838. Schumann has written many, many beautiful pieces of music but of the ones I am aware of having heard, [Of Foreign Lands and Peoples](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M1_Yjqj9xSY), or Von fremden Ländern und Menschen, is still my favorite. The best known one is [Dreaming](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zVQk0YviAA), in German Träumerei. You can find more information about the collection [here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kinderszenen). 


	19. One step forward, four steps back (I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a new chapter - one that is part of a five chapter arch (as of right now).  
There weren't any comments on the last chapter which I was a little sad about but I hope that my lovely readers will have things to say about this one, and maybe the last one as well?  
I hope that you are well wherever you are, that you are staying inside and at home as much as you can and if you work to serve the public in any way (e.g. medical personnel, supermarket staff, security services, and, and, and) - thank you!  
See you next week :)

~*~*~*~

“Thank you,” Ruth said quietly, nodding to Neesy who disappeared after having brought her mistress to her master’s study. Ruth hadn’t known it was in an entirely different part of the house until she had asked Neesy but maybe it explained why she never even saw Draco in passing when going places. Well, going places – when she visited Narcissa or the ballroom.

Now she was standing in front of a large, dark door and clasping a few papers in her hand tightly. Her stomach was clenching nervously and she had to take a few deep breaths before she lifted her hand to knock.

There was a short pause then Draco’s voice resounded: “Come in.” Ruth swallowed and entered the room.

Draco’s study was large, elaborate even, just like every other room in the manor that Ruth had ever seen. Like many of the other rooms it also seemed dark and dreary, and she didn’t like it. The walls were lined with shelves upon shelves of books. There was a large desk with a mighty looking desk chair behind it. In one corner there was another table with two chairs. There was a fire on in the fireplace but couldn’t offer the room true warmth.

“Are you alright?” was Draco’s first question. Though he hadn’t come to the door personally, he had risen from his chair and rounded the desk. “Is something wrong?” He looked over her face then his gaze flickered to her middle momentarily.

Today’s dress was nearly floor-length and of a gray color with small floral details along the seams. As all her dresses, its silhouette was flowing but could no longer conceal the protruding roundness of her belly at the passing of nearly three-quarters of her pregnancy. She had passed the half mark weeks before, there were now fewer to go than she had already gone through.

“I’m alright and nothing is wrong,” she told him reassuringly, laid her hand into his outreached one and let him give her another once-over when she was right in front of him. “I just wanted to talk to you about something.” She swallowed thickly and he didn’t miss it.

“Please, sit,” he invited her and led her to the two chairs and the little table. “Kinsy,” he called for his personal elf and had tea and biscuits delivered to them promptly. He then proceeded to prepare his wife’s tea for her, perfectly.

“Thank you,” Ruth mumbled and took a tentative sip but felt much too nervous to truly enjoy it.

Draco reached across and laid his hand over hers on the table, sensing or seeing, or both, her nerves. She tried to give him a smile but it didn’t really work, she could tell by the look in his eyes and the slight furrow of his brows.

“What did you want to talk to me about, Ruth?” he asked calmly, almost invitingly, and Ruth swallowed again. She turned her hand under his and held onto it, her thumb brushing over the metal encircling his third finger. For only a moment she was able to meet his eyes before she looked down again.

She opened her mouth and out came: “The residence you promised in our marriage contract, the one for after the separation – can I have it now?”

~*~*~*~

_Ruth was speechless. There had been many moments in the past months where she had thought herself thoroughly speechless, but none even came close to this one. She was sure that her mouth stood comically wide open as she looked around herself, turned in a circle, gaping at what surrounded her._

_‘Come with me, I want to show you something’, Draco had said and had taken her here._

_She turned again, to look at him, and he must have seen her speechlessness on her face, must have recognized how utterly and completely unable she was to express even one syllable of what she was feeling or thinking. He took two steps closer to her again, took her hand and led her to the edge of the room he had just brought her to. Guiding her hand he lifted it to the walls of the room, pressing her palm against the glass._

_It was a room of glass that he had brought her to. A room that had three walls and a ceiling made entirely of glass._

_The room of glass, the conservatory, had to be somewhere near the ballroom because the view looked somewhat familiar to what she had glimpsed beyond the terrace attached to the ballroom._

_A room of glass._

_Draco had brought her to a room of glass._

_“The construction has been completed for a few days but Mother was finishing the furnishings. I thought the first real snowfall was the perfect morning to show it to you,” he explained, softly peeling her hand from the icy cold glass again, lest she catch cold._

_Ruth still couldn’t say anything but she nodded ever so weakly._

_From her bedroom windows she had already seen the first dusting of white outside but this was different. This was an entire, large room made almost completely of glass, reaching far into a beautiful part of the gardens, allowing her so much more to see of the outside and so much more sun, when it shone. It was overcast today, the clouds heavy and snowflakes still tumbling down, joining the ones that had already painted everything with a light layer of white._

_Draco had brought her to a room of glass in which the furniture, a group of very inviting and comfortable looking sofas as well as a corner bench lining the far right corner, piled with plush and soft looking cushions, spoke of Narcissa’s touch again. A room of glass so she could see the outside but didn’t have to go outside._

_There were still no words Ruth was able to find in her mind or on her tongue but she was able to express herself to her husband all the same, stepping close to him, right into him actually, wrapping her arms around his middle and hiding her face in his chest. His arms slowly closed around her and she exhaled a deep breath._

_“Mother is having all kinds of flowers planted around here so you can watch them grow,” he told her quietly. “It’s charmed to a comfortable temperature and you can also darken the individual panes to let less sunlight through, or block it out altogether.”_

_He told her more details, about all the little and big things he and his mother had thought of to make this the perfect room for her. She barely heard any of them, her head just swimming with another wave of the realization that Draco was doing whatever he had in his might to make her happy._

~*~*~*~

_Hannah looked around curiously and Ruth watched her friend with baited breath. It was the first time Ruth was having visitors in her parlor that didn’t share her (new) last name or weren’t medical personnel._

_“I didn’t know it was possible for a room to look so you but this room is basically you in room-form,” Hannah stated after a few moments and offered Ruth a grin._

_Ruth returned it, exhaling in relief. “Do you like it?”_

_Hannah gave her a look. “I like _you_ – this room is you in room-form so… I really like it.”_

_Ruth gave another, slightly shaky smile and Hannah’s expression sobered somewhat. She took the few steps over to her friend and took Ruth’s hand._

_“I’m really glad you get to have this, Ruthie,” Hannah said heartfeltly. “I’m glad you’re better.”_

_Ruth nodded lightly and squeezed Hannah’s hand. “I am.”_

_“I can see that.” Hannah offered a wider, warm smile. “And happy birthday!”_

_“Thank you.”_

_“I hope you’ve had a great day so far?”_

_Ruth nodded and offered a smile._

_“Alright then. Now, give me a tour of the rest!”_

_And so Ruth showed Hannah the rest of her rooms, the bedroom, the dressing room, and the bathroom. Hannah had something witty to say about all of it and had her friend smiling or laughing easily. It was such a relief._

_Since the Christmas party, the two women had been in contact much more regularly, writing every few days. The sudden emergence of quite a number of post exchange had led Draco to assign not one but two owls to Ruth’s personal post, one of quite a few the Malfoys owned, as far as Ruth had understood. One went regularly and reliably to Hannah, the other went different places._

_“Are we having tea here?” Hannah asked when they came back to the parlor but the coffee table was void of any tea or other provisions. Ruth had invited only her for her birthday tea but she hoped that sometime, maybe soon, she would be able to invited others as well. Not to the extent of their wedding ball, by far not, but maybe, maybe just a handful of people, or two, or three. She wanted them to see she was happy here._

_“No.” Ruth shook her head and couldn’t help the smile that pulled on her lips. “I want to show you something else.” She called for Neesy and had them both taken to the conservatory._

_“Well, alright. If I hadn’t thought your husband was absolutely besotted with you, this would prove it once and for all,” was the first thing out of Hannah’s mouth once they were landed._

_Ruth looked around sheepishly. “He only showed me a few days ago, at the first snow.”_

_“What I said.” Hannah gave her a look which then softened again. “Ruth, I don’t understand this at all.” She gestured around the room and towards Ruth, especially to her middle. “But as far as I can tell, he is being very good to you and I can’t fault anyone for being wonderful to my best friend, can I?”_

_Ruth nodded lightly._

_“Let’s sit. I want to try some fancy-shmancy cakes and stuff.” Hannah pulled her to sit on one of the sofas and prepared their teas then arranged a few pastries and hors d’oeuvre on a plate. “Merlin, this is divine,” she groaned, having taken a hearty bite of one of the small cakes. “Good food and a view.” She nodded in approval. “Now tell me about that doe eyed look.”_

_“I don’t-“_

_Hannah let out a small hum and Ruth let out a sigh, breaking off._

_“I don’t understand either,” she admitted, reaching for one of the canapés topped with cheddar._

_“If it’s any consolation, I don’t often understand my husband too.” Hannah gave a small shrug. They shared a small, amused grin at Neville’s expense._

_“Your husband didn’t con you into marrying him with a bogus favor though,” Ruth blurted and froze, holding her breath again, waiting for Hannah’s reaction._

_“So that’s how that happened,” Hannah said calmly and Ruth swallowed. “I’d been wondering.”_

_Of course she had. Ruth gave a small shrug. “He…” She pressed her lips together tightly. “I should have spoken at his trial,” she admitted, for the first time ever, to someone who wasn’t Draco._

_Hannah stared at her. “What?”_

_“At the-“ Ruth swallowed again and Hannah reached for her hand but Ruth shook her head. “At Hogwarts when… at the final battle…” She wetted her lips and took a deep breath. “Daisy was always good healing charms and things, you remember? She was… She just wanted to help.” She pressed her lips together tightly, her chin starting to wobble. _

_“We went together because I wouldn’t let her go alone, you know. I just- We’d already lost Mum and Dad and when she heard about things going down at Hogwarts she-“ Ruth took in another breath, shakier than before. Her hands curled and uncurled in her lap._

_“I went with her. And we went looking for people who were- who were injured and she- she healed them as best as she could but there were so many and-“_

_Hannah reached for her again but Ruth pulled her hand away almost violently then shakily placed it on her belly but only for a moment._

_“I tried to keep us out of the worst of it, I did. I promised Mum, I was her big sister, right? I had to watch out for her.” A tear rolled down her cheek slowly._

_“We knew all the back routes and hiding spots and all because we’d been sneaking out to meet up for years… And then we ran into them. Him and- and Goyle and- Goyle was about to attack us but Draco- He stopped him and he told us to get out while we still could.” She nodded to herself. “He made Goyle leave with him and- He spared us.”_

_Hannah stared at her friend. “So you owed him a favor.”_

_Ruth nodded._

_“Even though Daisy was-“_

_Ruth nodded again._

_“I really hate when people say this to me and I know you do too but Ruth…” Hannah took her hand finally and Ruth allowed it. “You are such a Hufflepuff.”_

_Ruth let out a wet chuckle. “Aren’t I? I Hufflepuff-ed my Slytherin husband into gifting me a conservatory.” She gave Hannah a fake haughty look, raising her chin arrogantly._

_Hannah stared at her for another moment then burst into laughter. “Don’t you ever change, Ruthie.” She pressed a big, wet kiss to Ruth’s cheek._

~*~*~*~

_Ever since the piano had appeared on Christmas morning, it had both been a source of comfort and of struggle. The keys called to her but when she sat in front of them, she felt frozen._

_The pile of sheet music helped. She pulled out pieces randomly, tried them whether she knew them or not, played without structure or plan, for a few moment or for hours. Her mind brought her back to the countless hours spent in front of her childhood piano, to her mother sitting next to her and instructing her, of Daisy standing on the other side with her violin and them playing together. Sometimes she welcomed the memories, sought them out, but other times she avoided the piano like the plague to keep them at bay._

_The memories brought her to pull familiar pieces from the piles, those which her fingers easily remembered, those that felt like home. Music had always felt like home._

_Her parents had often taken them to concerts and shows. They had seen orchestras, quartets, quintets, trios, duos, pianists, violinists, other soloists, operas and operettas, musicals, ballets. They had dressed up in fancy clothes and had learned to sit still when they found something boring. Most of the time their parents needn’t have worried. The two girls had sat in their seats, utterly transfixed by the music and all the people on the stage, reenacting scenes and pieces at home afterwards, transforming their rooms and house into different lands and worlds. Ballet had always been a favorite with the two of them, movements from Swan Lake and the Nutcracker rising from Ruth’s fingers as she remembered. The Peer Gynt suites were much the same, after hearing the Peer Gynt suites played by an orchestra, the weeks that followed had been filled with renditions of Anitra’s Dance and Morning Mood but the definite favorite had been In the Hall of the Mountain King. Their Dad pretending to be the Mountain King and stomping around their living room to the music had made them fall into fits of giggles._

_The first attempts were not much recognizable, Swan Lake, The Nutcracker and Peer Gynt had to come back to her but as the time passed and the weeks went by, each movement became more and more discernible._

_Her fingers struggled. She struggled. For so long, much too long, she had distanced herself from this, from music, from the piano. Now bursting right back into it was almost more than she could take. Over the course of a few days, she found herself in it again though, allowed her fingers to remember how to play it all._

_It became a daily ritual, lending structure to her day much like the meal times did. She had her breakfast and then she would go and sit on the piano bench for some time. Sometimes just a few minutes but day by day, she practiced and played for longer periods._

_Unknowingly, she created a ritual for her husband as well. It was a coincidence, the first time, the first few times, but eventually he just accepted that he was going for a stroll around the house – moving helped him think through the trickier aspects of the family businesses – at roughly the same time every day. And if he stopped in the corridor of his own quarters and listened to Ruth playing the piano for a few moments, well, she was a very good pianist._

_She also had a penchant for a certain type, or period, of music and he found himself unable not to comment on it at her choice of music for yet another waltz._

_“You do have a certain fondness for romance, don’t you?” Draco remarked while he moved them around the ballroom to a waltz from Verdi’s La Traviata which she had chosen._

_For a moment, Ruth looked surprised but then there was a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “How ever did you guess?”_

_“Yes, how ever did I guess when you display such a profound proclivity for anything that has to do with nature, feelings and a certain amount of melancholy,” he replied dryly. “It may also have been the sheer amount of composers from the romantic period you have been playing.”_

_Ruth turned under his arm before she spoke again, carefully choosing her words for play could mean ‘choose for listening to’ but it could also mean play as in play on the piano. “What was your favorite that I played?”_

_“You certainly played the Grieg the most,” was out of his mouth before he could think better of it. It was blatantly obvious that she had never chosen anything by Edvard Grieg to dance to._

_“Anitra’s Dance was my sister’s favorite,” she told him without missing a beat. “I always liked In the Hall of the Mountain King the most. My father used to stomp around the house pretending to be the mountain king.”_

_Draco was quiet for a few moments. “Have you ever seen the play?”_

_“Yes, my parents took us to see many different plays and concerts all the time. After we started Hogwarts we could only go in the summer but we always looked forward to it.”_

_He nodded lightly and that was that. _

~*~*~*~

_The sound was small and quiet but still enough to rouse him. Or maybe it was the charm on her bedroom door that had alerted the wand under his cushion. He sat up and raised it, a minimum of light illuminating Ruth’s parlor – and Ruth two steps away from the door to the corridor. Her dark green, fluffy robe was wound tightly around her body, matching the slippers on her feet, and there was a sheepish look on her face as she blinked at him._

_“Where are you going?” he asked, standing, a frown on his face. “What’s wrong?”_

_“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said and he frowned more._

_“I can see that. Where are you going?”_

_“You don’t have to come with me, go back to sleep,” she tried to placate him but he wasn’t having any of it._

_“Ruth.” He took the rest of the distance in three large steps. “Where are you going? What happened?”_

_She looked up at him and after a lengthy staring match, she sighed. “I couldn’t sleep.”_

_“Then you call Neesy or you wake me,” he pointed out and she had the audacity to roll her eyes at him._

_“I’m not going to call Neesy or you just because your child is dancing ballet on my bladder and I wake up to pee every few hours,” she told him dryly and he was momentarily rendered speechless._

_“I see,” he said finally. “As far as I am aware, you have a perfectly functioning bathroom right through there.” He gestured back to her bedroom door. “Where are you going, Ruth?”_

_“I am taking a walk.” She raised her chin defiantly. “Just inside the house. Not going outside. Obviously. Not going to get lost.” She was tired, and a little crabby, and he was entirely too nosy and protective._

_“Alright, lead the way.” He reached past her and opened the door._

_“You don’t have to come…”_

_He just looked at her._

_“Fine.” She huffed a little and stepped outside into the corridor. The lamps there lit up as soon as she had. Wherever she was going, there had not been any dark corners and shadows in a long time. Every way she turned, the lights illuminated everywhere she could see brightly._

_Draco followed her and after a few steps, fell into step with her, matching her shorter gait. He extended his elbow just lightly but he was patient and another few steps later, Ruth slid her hand into the bend of his arm. He covered it with his other hand and walked with her._

_Their walk brought them to the conservatory and Draco knew immediately why Ruth had sought it out. The sky was quite clear and the night quite dark, and there were the stars in the dark, dark sky. They sat on one of the sofas and he covered her with one of the throws waiting to be used, took one for himself at her narrowed look. Then they slid back in their seats and looked up._

_“Where’s yours?” she asked quietly and smiled when he immediately started to tell, then show her._

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a listen to the Peer Gynt Suite No. 1 Op. 46, it is gorgeous! [Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QH0tbZ_L7uA) it is in its entirety, 16:34 minutes. Or in parts: [Morning Mood](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IZx-vccIGko), [The Death of Åse](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e8tFv-dU0ZI), [Anitra’s Dance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2KKKhhnWGyQ) and [In the Hall of the Mountain King](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GFylXvPlgZI). All played by the wonderful pianist Paul Barton, check out all his other wonderful videos on his channel.
> 
> As you probably now, Draco is indeed a star constellation. It can be seen with the naked eye from northern latitudes all year around – if you know how to find it. (I don’t.) If you want to know what it looks like either way, [here is a picture](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/c3/DracoCC.jpg).


	20. One step forwards, five steps back (II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are with a new chapter.  
It took longer to finish this than I thought - finding the drive and motivation to write amidst so much difference, isolation, anxiety and chaos proved to be harder than expected. For those reasons I don't know when I will conjur up the next chapter.  
Thank you to my lovely, lovely last commenter who gave me the push to finish this chapter with their wonderful review. <3  
I would love to hear what you thought/think about this chapter and this new arch and yeah. Talk to you soon!

~*~*~*~

_She opened her mouth and out came: “The residence you promised in our marriage contract, the one for after the separation – can I have it now?”_

There was a moment of silence that passed in mutual shock and astonishment that these words had passed over her lips. Then they both acted, reacted at the same time.

Ruth fumbled for words, reaching for her papers, trying to save what her nerves had already ruined. Her heart was racing in her chest once again and she felt sick.

“Draco, I didn’t- That came out wrong, I can- Please, listen, I-“

Draco removed his hand from her grasp, the movement very deliberate and calculated, not rushed, not hurried, but icy cold and cutting all the same. His face was blank and his eyes unreadable. He stood.

“Please, let me explain, I didn’t- It came out wrong, I wrote it down because I wanted to- Please.” She spoke desperately but she may as well not have spoken at all, her words bounced off the impenetrable wall he had drawn up within moments. “Draco, please.”

“I will provide a list and overview of available properties promptly. I must remind you that the terms of our contract determine that you are not to move out until the child departs for school. A clause that may be waived if you wish,” he informed her in this emotionless, plain voice that made her start to cry because she- why hadn’t she just read from her notes? Or given their proposal to him? The exact thing she had been afraid to say had come out of her mouth, ruining everything.

“The house is not for me, I don’t wish to- This is- I-“ She tried to form a clear thought, a sensible sentence but it was all jumbled up now. She should have accepted Hermione’s offer to approach him together. But she had thought he would take it better from her, that he would see what she was trying to do and- “Hermione and I, we want to-“

“Ah, yes, Miss Granger.” He cut her off dryly. “It all makes sense now, doesn’t it? Mrs. Longbottom could not convince you own her own so she brought in reinforcements. When did this little plot start? You stated redistributing your allowance around Christmas, if I’m not mistaken.”

“How do you kn-“

Draco gave her a piercing look. “Did you really think I wouldn’t be informed if you moved large sums out of a vault belonging to my family? Don’t be daft. It did strike me as odd but I thought nothing much of it. I must commend Miss Granger, she has always been very smart when she really applied herself to something, especially rescuing lost causes, if I remember correctly.”

Ruth fell silent at the depreciative glance he gave her at that.

“You truly do have a terrible poker face, Ruth-Anne. It was blatantly obvious that you were planning something and now you have revealed yourself. Very well then, the cards are on the table, I suppose.”

“It isn’t like you say at all, we-!” Ruth tried to defend herself, to explain, but Draco silenced her with another look.

“I will draw up the list and the document to waive the clause promptly. Excuse me now, I have work to do.” He unceremoniously towed her out of his study and closed the door in her face whilst she still tried to explain.

~*~*~*~

_Ruth closed the book in front of her with an audible snap and raised her hand, her wand floating through the open bedroom door into it. She gave a closer look to the bouquet of flowers, daisies, arranged beautifully in an equally beautiful vase just in front of her. She had lost count how many bouquets Draco had sent her by now but she appreciated each and every one of them. They came about weekly now, or rather there was nothing ‘about’ about it, they came every Tuesday morning like clockwork. And every Tuesday she sent something back._

_Closing her eyes for a moment, she focused within herself and then blindly but not unintentionally moved her wand. When she opened her eyes, a long stem was lying across the book she had just closed, topped by an egg-sized rose bud that was just starting to open. Its petals were as richly colored as they had always been on the roses she had sent to her husband but the color itself was decidedly just a few, or a few more, shades beyond sunshine yellow and more towards a vibrant orange._

_With the flourish of her wand, she added an elegant little bow as well as rid the stem of its thorns before she called Neesy who would deliver the flower, as usual._

~*~*~*~

_There was a chair. In the corridor. A chair in the corridor that otherwise housed no other furniture. A chair in the corridor that had never otherwise housed other furniture. A chair that had not been there the day before, or even in the morning when he had left his rooms to go to his study. A chair that had randomly appeared, but he knew where it came from. It was of dark wood and pale green fabric._

_He approached it carefully, like it was about to attack him, which was ridiculous because it was just a chair. But a chair that had appeared randomly, out of the blue, with no discernible reason._

_His charm check revealed that it was a simple, unassuming chair, the only magic on it was the extra cushioning charm on the seat and backrest. It was a simple, unassuming, cushioning-charmed chair from Ruth’s parlor._

_Beyond the door to said parlor, the sound of the piano started to drift through and he closed his eyes for a moment. He had given himself away in the most laughable and doltish way imaginable and he had no one but himself to blame for walking right into the trap his wife had presented him with. Commenting on her proclivity for romantic composers had been a beginner’s mistake, and then answering her question which one he preferred in such way that made it even clearer he had been listening to her play more than once, or twice. It felt like confirmation of his foolish mishap that she was playing Grieg again but he just barely refrained from stomping away to In The Hall Of The Mountain King._

_He was discovered, found out, exposed, and it hadn’t needed her chair to know it. But it was so like her, so like his soft and seemingly quiet wife, to simply show him that she had discovered him. So he did what any sensible man would have done with the knowledge that his wife was very much aware he had been sneaking on her – he sat in the chair, waiting for something else to happen, but nothing did._

_The next day he returned during his morning break and walk around the house, to find not just the chair but a little extra side table and on the side table a steaming cup of tea under a stasis charm. There was even a little note propped up against the cup that he picked up very carefully. Two words, _Any requests?_, were written on the piece of parchment in his wife’s somewhat awkward handwriting. You could always tell the Muggle influence in someone’s handwriting._

_Still fingering the note, he sat in the chair and stared at the cup of tea. She was being lovely to him, and mocking him, all in one go and if he hadn’t been so peeved by being on the receiving end of it, he would have been- Well, he was peeved and that was that. He muttered to himself as he canceled the stasis charm and picked up the cup of tea. So what if she knew? So what if she had put a chair for him, and tea? He took a sip and exhaled an involuntary sigh. Perfectly prepared._

~*~*~*~

_“May I speak with you for a moment, Ruth?” Draco asked after dinner as he was walking her back to her rooms._

_“Of course,” she said lightly although he sounded awfully serious._

_He summoned Kinsy first to serve some herbal tea for them and then went about fixing them a cup each with extended flourish, as he did to stall time, Ruth knew. She didn’t rush him, she accepted the cup when he offered it to her and floated a small cushion onto the coffee table to rest her feet upon as she stretched out her legs. She didn’t need to look beside herself to see the appalled crinkle between her husband’s brows at her outrageous behavior. The first time she had done it, he had had a fit that still made her grin at the memory. Now he smartly kept his mouth shut._

_“So what did you want to speak about?” Ruth asked him finally, after several sips of tea and still no word from him. She craned her head to peer at him. It had certainly been easier to look into his face when he had been sitting across from her but she would never have traded in him sitting right next to her for anything in the world, even if she had to crane her neck to look at him now._

_“You said that your mother taught you to play the piano,” he stated rather than asked and she nodded slowly._

_“She did.”_

_“Have you ever received lessons from a prop- from a _trained_ piano teacher?”_

_She shook her head. “No, never.”_

_“Would you like to?”_

_She blinked at him. “But I can’t go somewhere for lessons,” she said quickly, already breathing a little more heavily. She sat up a little more, taking down her feet. “And who would want to come to the-“ She broke off. The manor may have become her new home and sanctuary but its history was widely known, even if she was able to look beyond it. No one mentioned that none of its residents received many visitors nor went out frequently. The wedding ball had been an exception that Ruth was still not able to fully understand._

_“And if someone would? Come here? For lessons?”_

_Ruth sat up even more. “Draco, are you saying that-“_

_“You play so wonderfully, Ruth,” he cut her off and shifted in his seat, setting down his cup before he turned towards her. “I would never want you to feel like you don’t play absolutely beautifully.”_

_She stared at him with wide, round eyes._

_“I can hear you struggle sometimes,” he admitted and it was another foolish thing to do but he did it. “I know it can help to receive instruction from someone to learn more and become even better. But only if you would like to.”_

_She blinked at him, several times._

_“Breathe,” he said to her, quietly, and touched her hand._

_She exhaled audibly, and inhaled, and exhaled, and inhaled. “A piano teacher would come here?” she asked, so quietly it was barely audible, like she could not believe it, like the illusion would shatter if she spoke too loudly._

_He gave a simple nod._

_“Really?” If it was possible for her brown eyes to go even wider, they did._

_He nodded again._

_She let out a breath and closed her eyes. Then she stood abruptly and marched over to the piano. “I might actually defeat these!” she declared with such hopefulness, holding up a pile of sheet music, that he couldn’t help the wide grin that pulled apart the corners of his mouth._

~*~*~*~

_Madam Martel was the name of the piano teacher Draco had procured and after the first lesson he had been sure that he would be sending a strongly worded owl to the woman the very next day, for Ruth took lunch and dinner in her own rooms that day. However, when Neesy popped in and extended an invitation for after-dinner tea and he entered his wife’s parlor, he saw why._

_Ruth was sitting at the piano, some piece spread out across the length of it in seven or eight sheets so she did not have to turn pages, and the small side table next to her held dishes like the ones he had just eaten from, largely untouched. Neesy gave him an exasperated look before she disappeared again._

_He stood there silently and unmoving for several moments, attempting to find the best way for approaching, when Ruth abruptly turned to him and fixed him with a rather piercing, unexpected look._

_“When were you going to tell me that you played as well?” she asked him impatiently and he was so taken aback by the unexpected quality to her voice, that his brain skipped over the meaning of her words for several moments. Then he stood very still and avoided looking her in the eye._

_“Come sit,” she said and scooted to the left of the bench. A wave of her hand neatly folded up the papers she had just been playing from and another book opened itself in front of her._

_When he didn’t come immediately, she gave him another look and he came then, there was no other choice. He sat down next to her and looked at the notated music in front of them, with horror. It was a four-handed piece._

_His mouth opened to protest but nothing came out because she looked at him from the side and the impatience was gone, replaced with something much worse, replaced with her soft, warm look of patience, and his jaw snapped shut._

_“Would you like to run through yours separately first?” she asked quietly and he eyed the music on the parchment for a few moments._

_“Perhaps that would be wise,” he allowed stiffly. “It has been a while.”_

_“Alright,” she said simply and helped him run through his part which she had clearly had a closer look, or even practiced, earlier._

_It wasn’t too difficult, the piece, especially with her gentle guidance. It was much more welcome than Madam Martel’s guidance in any case, Ruth had much more patience and she never once tapped his fingers or palm with the sharp end of a quill when he hit a wrong note or his hands weren’t perfectly rounded._

_The true magic unfolded when they were through with his part and started assembling the piece with four hands, together. She adapted to his tempo perfectly, even when he sped or slowed, and even the first, botched attempt sounded so…_

_She leaned her head against his shoulder with a smile on her face and he felt like he couldn’t complain about his own mishaps too much when she looked like this after just the first try, damned as it may have been._

_“Now you’ll actually have to come in instead of just sitting outside listening!” she announced brightly as she sat up and put her fingers to the keys again._

_He said nothing because there was nothing else to say._

~*~*~*~

_“These are all the types of cards there are,” Ruth began and laid out a row of cards in front of herself. “These two black ones are called ‘Wild’ and ‘Wild Draw Four’.” She tapped the two cards at the left end of the row. “It means you may choose one of the four colors to be used by the player after you – with the addition of the person of having to draw four extra cards if it has the +4 on it.”_

_Draco and Narcissa nodded slowly._

_“This card is a ‘Skip’ it means that the player after you misses that turn. With this card you can reverse the order of playing from clockwise to counter-clockwise and vice versa. Then this last card here is also an action card, you make the player after you draw two cards.”_

_Ruth and Narcissa had been playing games, particularly card games, together for a long time and Ruth had mentioned a few ones she had grown up here and there in passing. She hadn’t paid much notice to it, until Narcissa had presented her with a pack of UNO cards. Somehow Draco had gotten roped into playing as well and now Ruth was explaining the rules. You did not ask questions, or protest, when Narcissa did such a thing._

_“Wild, Wild Draw Four, Skip, Reverse, Draw Two,” Narcissa repeated and pointed to each card._

_Ruth nodded. “Those are the action cards. The others are just number cards, some of them can have a special meaning but we’ll decide on that later. The objective is to get rid of your cards as quickly as possible and then collect as many points from the others’ leftover cards. The first person to reach 500 points wins. Everyone gets seven cards in the beginning and one card from the draw pile is turned over to begin the game. For example,” Ruth put all the cards together, shuffled them expertly and put them in a neat draw pile, “if the first card here is a red 6 then you would have to play a red card or a 6 to match it. If you don’t have a red card or a 6, you have to take a card from the draw pile and if it matches, then play it. If not, it’s the next player’s turn.”_

_Ruth explained the rest of the starter rules and then also the house rules because Draco saw them on the instructions which he was reading while she was explaining as if to check she was teaching them correctly. So they extended the rules by progressive draw cards, seven-0 (switching cards with someone else, or everyone switching) as well as jumping in when you had a twin card._

_All that, or the countless other afternoons she had spent playing with Narcissa, should have told Ruth that she was dealing with no amateurs but she was still surprised as they played their first round. Neither Narcissa nor Draco asked any more questions and they both played to the rules perfectly, and a little ruthlessly if Ruth had to be honest. The look of smug triumph on her husband’s face as he won the first round rather quickly definitely set her straight._

_“What other Muggle card games can you recommend, Ruth-Anne? This was rather entertaining,” Narcissa asked when she had been the first to reach 500 points, thus ending their game. Draco had excused himself quickly, a not so humble runner-up if Ruth read the furrow of his brows correctly._

_“Oh, there are plenty,” Ruth told her mother-in-law. “I’ll write you a list.”_

_“Wonderful. And if there are any more games, or items, which you have found indispensible to your childhood, do add them as well.” Narcissa said so in a very even, airy tone but Ruth was starting to read between the lines and words more and more and she was reading something right there._

_“Of course,” she agreed. “Shall I pass the list to you or directly to Draco?”_

_Narcissa looked up from gathering the cards and Ruth didn’t imagine that a glimmer of approval shimmered in her mother-in-law’s eyes._

_“To me, if you would, dear.”_

_Ruth nodded and didn’t deny herself the small grin that tugged on the corners of her lips. In the end, the list would land in Draco’s hand anyways which she knew which she had just subtly dropped in her question. She wasn’t great at this subtlety game yet, she never would be, not to their level, but she did have her moments._

_From somewhere in the house there was a loud noise and both women jumped slightly, but not too much. It hadn’t been the first noise that day, or in that week. There had been plenty of noises lately, and plenty of Draco complaining under his breath. Electricity was being brought to Malfoy Manor and with such a heavily magical house it had to be an absolute nightmare, if his sour mood lately was anything to go by._

_Narcissa eyed Ruth for a few moments after the noise and Ruth could take an educated guess as to what the woman was thinking. The reason why electricity was being brought to Malfoy Manor was obvious, it seemed, and in a way it was, and wasn’t. Naturally, if Draco hadn’t married Ruth, the daughter of Muggleborns, electricity may never have come to Malfoy Manor, that much was true. But it wasn’t coming to the manor at her request, and Ruth was quite sure that Narcissa was not aware of that aspect of the continued changes and works in the house._

_Much like Narcissa had just asked about games and items of Ruth’s childhood, Draco had inquired about her childhood staples as well. Or rather, Muggle childhood staples in general. That electricity had to do with a rather lot of them was more than obvious and so electricity was coming to Malfoy Manor, end of story. Ruth was sure that it would not be the end of the changes that had started with Draco’s decision to marry the daughter of Muggleborns, changes which were so integral to him that they were part of their marriage contract even._

_There had been many clauses and agreements in their contract that had surprised her, so many that she had not known which to focus on first. Naturally, the first one had been Daisy because it was the most important one, but the other ones were also important. Like one that had left behind another load of question marks in Ruth’s head, next to all the other question marks she had had and still had about her husband._

_Next to the provisions for Daisy, and herself, and the heir, and her after their separations, and a whole lot of other things, he had had some requirements, like living in the same house until their son went to Hogwarts and such. The last one though, the last one was the one she had least expected, even with all the other unexpected ones._

_“The last aspect I find absolutely necessary and I hope you will agree with me, is that the child should be brought up both proficient in the wizarding as well as the Muggle world, able to navigate both societies and customs and equipped to choose which one it shall prefer to dedicate itself to,” he had said and the closer the day of their son’s birth came, the more she thought about it._

~*~*~*~


	21. One step forward, six steps back (III)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this chapter recently and thought I would wait a little longer to post it, but then I thought why shouldn't I?  
So here it is, part 3 of this 5 chapter arch.  
Hope you enjoy! :) Let me know what you think.

~*~*~*~

Back in her parlor, Ruth stood by one of her sofas for a few moments, staring off into the space unfocusedly, and didn’t know what to do now. She couldn’t feel a single bone in her body and the buzzing in her ears became louder and louder until she could no longer hear anything but it. The buzzing filled her ears, her head, her entire body.

In front of her inner eye, all she could see was the moment the shutters had gone down in Draco’s eyes. The cold and distance radiating from him as he had pushed her out of his office. The way he had said-

A wave of chilling realization washed over her. He was going to make her leave. He was going to give her a property, a house, and he would expect her to live there then. Alone. Without him. Without Narcissa. Without Neesy. Without her parlor, and her bedroom, and her bathroom, and the conservatory, and the ballroom. She would have to live there and he would live here and their son would-

The room started to face around the edges, shadows started to form around her as the walls started to close in on her. It felt like her lungs were frozen, like someone had placed bags of lead onto her chest. Somehow she made it to the safety of the floor and scooted backwards, the darkness still reaching out to her. Her back made contact with a wall and she pressed herself against it, drew her knees to her torso as best as she could, cradling her child with her arms and bowing her head.

“I don’t want to go,” she whispered. “I don’t want to go. Don’t make me go. Don’t make me go.” There was no one there to hear it.

The next conscious thought came to her later, she didn’t know how much. She never knew how much time had passed. She only knew that a long time had passed since this had happened.

She was in her bed, on her side, facing out into the gardens, the sun was shining bright, hurting her eyes a little. She blinked slowly then she turned away. She couldn’t bear the sight, not when she would be forced to leave it behind so soon. No doubt he was already making the necessary preparations to have her gone as quickly as possible. He was a fast worker, she knew that. He always did what he said he was going to, as efficiently and quickly as possible. This would be no different.

Turning over meant she had a different view and she wasn’t prepared for what she saw. Along the wall opposite of the bed, there was now a long stretch of nothing where a cot had been. She closed her eyes so she didn’t have to see the empty spot.

If only she had never written that letter. If only she had never tried to do something, to build something, something so large. She was not capable of big things anymore, anything big she touched, she spoiled. The world was much too big for her to handle, she shouldn’t have tried to reach beyond the safety of her limitations. Small tasks, like choosing a wall color or which music to play next, could be given to her and she would not mess that up. But not something like this. It had been foolish to believe that she could, even when asking for help from such brilliant and able people like Hermione. Now Ruth would be forced to live in the house she had intended for others, many others, to find shelter in.

~*~*~*~

_Ruth stopped abruptly and stood still. Draco gripped her shoulder and hand a little more tightly for a moment to keep her balanced but at the same time he was already checking her over to find the reasons for her sudden stop._

_“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked quickly, looking her in the face finally._

_“Give me your hand.” Instead of waiting she took his hand herself and put it on a spot on her belly. It had been steadily growing and now, nearly halfway through, she could feel the little life in her belly. She had been feeling what the healer had called flutters for a while without knowing exactly what it was but now they were stronger and she hoped-_

_Dancing and hugs and sitting together were the extent of their physical contact but it was good, more than good. He still kissed her knuckles in greeting and when leaving her and every now and then she kissed his cheek. They were friends, and she liked it._

_Still, he had never touched the bump. Not explicitly, not purposefully. He had brushed against it when twisting her in a turn whilst dancing, he had to have felt it between them during a hug, she was sure. But he had never put his hand on it._

_Biting her bottom lip in anticipation she held his hand where she had just felt the movement, hoping, praying, that it would happen again._

_For many long moments they stood, frozen in waiting, and then when Ruth had already given up but hadn’t dared to release his hand yet, there it was. The spot was more on the edge of his palm now but he had noticed, she knew, because he adjusted his hand slightly, and there it was again._

_She heard his breath hitch and he pressed on her belly a little more firmly, not hurting her but clearly displaying a desire to feel more, to feel again. She couldn’t help but smile, and caressed the back of his hand gently._

_There was another movement, smaller than the one before but noticeable enough. Enough that he released another audible breath and enough that his head fell forward. Their foreheads met, somewhat awkwardly because of the height difference and the unexpectedness, but then he took another breath and the calm spreading over them was almost tangible._

_They stayed like that for a while, standing together, touching at Ruth’s belly and their foreheads, breathing together, both eyes closed. There were no more flutters from within but it didn’t seem to matter. What mattered was the calm, the warmth, the ease between them._

_When she made to move away eventually, shifting her weight to rid herself of the discomfort of standing so still for so long, he made a noise in his throat, very quietly and very shortly, like he stopped himself within a split second of producing it. But it was enough and so she didn’t move away but opened her eyes. She reached up, laid her hand softly to his cheek._

_“Can we sit? Together?” she asked in a whisper, meeting his eyes when he opened them._

_His hand remained on her belly when he took out his wand, conjuring up a couple of cushions on the floor to sit on, helping her sit, making sure she was comfortable before he sat down himself. She tugged at him until he sat pressed up to her side and then they rearranged themselves so she was leaning into his chest with both his arms around her so both his hands could fit on her belly._

_“This is the future,” he whispered, randomly, nothing else before it, nothing after it._

~*~*~*~

_Ruth was waiting. Literally lying in wait, in her bed. Her eyes were fixed on the slightly opened door and her ears were straining to hear her husband’s movements in the parlor next door. The anticipation of his reaction had a tight hold of her and every second felt so very long._

_Finally he appeared in the door, pushing it open slowly. The expression on his face was rather unimpressed but Ruth smiled, knowing she was going to remedy that in just a few moments._

_“I have just been told by my own house-elf that my wife has forbidden them from supplying me any pillows or blankets,” he stated rather sourly._

_“I have,” she confirmed freely._

_“I don’t suppose you would acquiesce to telling me what I have displeased you with. I must admit I am not very fond of the guessing game my parents seemed to engage in such occasions,” he said stiffly._

_His parents. That was about as far as his father was ever mentioned. Never directly, neither by function nor by name, at most as the second part of the entity that constituted Draco’s parental figures. Ruth could imagine that ridding Lucius’ of his bedding would have been something she might have done to display her displeasure at something he had done, and then not tell him what he had done but let him stumble around in the dark to try and figure it out. Although the thought did seem a little funny to her, when concerning another couple, for herself she found the idea rather exhausting._

_Instead of answering, she gestured to the stretch of space she had had Neesy clear earlier. In place of the small table and two seats, there was now something else._

_Draco followed her gesture and his face went blank._

_“I thought a cot would be a step up from the couch, don’t you think?” she said lightly, choosing her words carefully, especially calling it a cot. A cot that was inside her bedroom._

_It wasn’t really a cot, of course. At least not a cot like the ones she remembered having slept in as a child when they’d gone camping. This was a very fancy cot, if you wanted to call it that, with a proper mattress and frame and the pillow and blanket he had always used on the couch. “This way I don’t have to even leave my bed if a midnight chat strikes my fancy,” she added brightly, and cheekily, and watched incredulity spread on her husband’s face._

_“Very well,” he said finally, slightly croaky._

_“You can use my bathroom to get ready.”_

_“Very well,” he repeated and was in the bathroom for a long time until he returned in his nightclothes and slid under his blanket on the cot._

_“Good night, Draco,” she said quietly from her bed._

_“Good night, Ruth,” he replied just as quietly from his cot._

~*~*~*~

_The last note rang out and a moment of silence followed. Ruth tried to glance over to Narcissa from the corner of her eye but she would have had to turn her head to get a real look at her mother-in-law and she didn’t want to be that obvious about it. Next to her, Draco was stock-still with his hands in his lap after he had taken them from the black and white keys in front of them._

_It had been her idea, and now in the silence that had fallen over her parlor, Ruth questioned whether it had been a good one. But she had just had so much fun, she had just been so proud of how well Draco and her had been playing together, and she had thought that Narcissa had asked to hear her play again, and that Narcissa would probably love to hear Draco play again as well and- But now there was this silence in the parlor after they had play together for his mother and she didn’t know…_

_“What a wonderful piece, played so beautifully,” Narcissa said finally and Ruth felt like her and Draco were finally starting to breathe again._

_“Thank you,” she said while her husband remained silent. She saw his hands twitch though, when she nudged him with her knee. “Draco picked it.”_

_Even though she wasn’t looking, Ruth could feel Narcissa’s gaze on her son. Quickly, before anything else could be said or Draco could leave the room like he liked to do lately, she flipped to another page in the book and sat up again._

_“We’ve got more.” She set her fingers to the keys and Draco followed dutifully. She counted them in with light nods and then they played the next piece together._

_The next morning, with Ruth’s breakfast arrived a box on her tray. A small envelope lay atop it reading her name, Ruth-Anne, in elegant handwriting. Inside the card there were just two words and a symbol. _Thank you_ and two beamed quavers _¯_._

_The box was home to a headband to match the ones Ruth had taken a liking to wearing recently, only that this one was much more precious. A ribbon of no doubt highest quality satin was studded with sparkling diamonds. In a pattern repeated about a dozen times to wrap around her head, an oval diamond was encircled by smaller ones._

_Draco seemed a little surprised to see it when she wore it to dinner but meeting Narcissa’s eyes across the table, Ruth was once more sure that she had succeeded in the unspoken communication again._

~*~*~*~

_The more the spring started to develop, the more time Ruth found herself spending in the conservatory. Even from one day to the other, never mind if she didn’t visit for a day or two, the development and growth of the plants and flowers in the beds around her glass room could be seen. It was the loveliest when the sun was shining but it was also nice when it was raining. Like today._

_The rain was pelting down onto the glass panes heavily, flowing down the sides in rivers. The skies were dark and dreary and a few candles lit around the room were trying to combat the muted light._

_But all that could not affect Ruth much who was quite content to sit on her favorite sofa seat, resting a cup of tea on her rounded belly that provided excellent table properties when she sat just so, covered with a cozy blanket, and listening to the rain. If not for her regular sips from her tea, one might have thought she was napping as she had her eyes closed._

_She heard him enter the conservatory, though she didn’t move until she had felt the seat dip next to her. When she opened her eyes to look at him, she found him looking at the saucer precariously balanced on her bump with something akin to fascination._

_“It has to be convenient for something,” she defended herself, setting the cup down onto the saucer. The bump was highly inconvenient for just about everything else, she fully reserved the right to balance dishes on it if she so liked._

_“I had never thought of it,” he replied neutrally and she would take that, she decided._

_“Neither had I,” she stated agreeably. A moment later she extended her hand towards him and he laid his into hers immediately. She brought his hand to a spot on her belly and watched her favorite expression of his spread on his face. This was most definitely fascination, with a good dose of amazement, like he couldn’t believe he was feeling their son move and kick even though he had felt it a good dozen times now._

_“The baby is quite active, the healer said,” she told him and he nodded, leaving his hand there after the discernible movements ceased._

_“That’s good.”_

_She nodded. For a moment she remained still, contemplating, but then she placed her hand over his again and left it there. When he tried to take it away, she made a noise of protest._

_“You can have this one,” he offered his other one and she figured that one was more comfortable for him after all, not having to reach his arm across his and her body._

_“Fine.” She took his other hand and placed it onto her belly, covering it with her own. He had to twist his wrist a little for this position but he seemed content enough with it, preparing and then sipping his tea with just one hand just fine._

~*~*~*~

_“And you watched this in your childhood?” Draco’s eyes were immovably trained onto the screen of the TV that had been installed in Ruth’s parlor in line with bringing electricity to her rooms._

_On the screen, several different colored and shaped puppets moved this way and then, speaking and then singing together._

_“Daisy and I loved Sesame Street,” Ruth confirmed and then let out a gasp as a familiar sequence began. “Oh my God, this song!”_

_On the screen, a very hairy male puppet with a striped shirt was now singing with two green and purple female ones, a song which Ruth knew instantly would be stuck in her head for at least the rest of the day._

_“Mahna Mahna,” the hairy puppet sang in a deep voice._

_“Ba dee bedebe,” the green and the purple puppets echoed._

_“Mahna Mahna.”_

_“Ba dee bedebe.”_

_“Mahna Mahna.”_

_“Ba dee bedebe badebe badebe dee dee de-de de-de-de.”_

_Draco did not look any less suspicious as the song went on, sung by these truly unsettling puppets, but at least his wife was enjoying herself, singing along under her breath._

_“Well, I suppose it has _some_ educational intention to it,” he said finally after a sequence on counting to nine had followed._

_“It does,” Ruth chuckled. “But it’s also just fun.”_

_He said nothing at that and changed the channel again like she had shown him._

_“I fully intend to get up to absolutely outrageously silly shenanigans with our child,” she informed him cheerfully._

_“I know,” he replied, utterly resigned to his fate. But he did enjoy some of the children’s shows she showed him on the TV, he could deny that all he liked, his bobbing knee and the melodies he absently hummed later that day proved it._

~*~*~*~

_Stepping through the new door that had magically appeared in her bedroom wall, Ruth couldn’t help but marvel. In a non-magical house, adding another room and connecting it would have required serious construction work, but in a magical home it was much easier to connect her bedroom to the nursery for their son._

_The room was empty so far, the walls whitewashed and gleaming in the light a row of windows much like her own let through. And it was big, very big, especially for a nursery but then again Ruth had two rooms this size to herself and no room she had seen in this house would have fit her description of a small room anyway. Everything was large and elaborate in this house._

_“What color shall we do the walls?” she asked, walking into the middle of the room and turning once around herself to take the room in fully._

_“Whatever color you deem appropriate,” was Draco’s stilted reply._

_She turned a quarter turn more to look at him, eyeing him for a moment. “What color do you like? For a nursery?” She was curious whether he had a color preference at all (except grays, that much was clear) and if he would provide an idea for their child’s room._

_“I’m not sure I should be consulted about this matter. You’d best ask my mother if you care for a second opinion.”_

_Ruth pursed her lips and walked over to him until she had to slightly raise her chin to look him in the face. “But I asked you for your opinion.”_

_He looked back at her for several moments, if speechless or just silent, she couldn’t fully tell._

_“Maybe a soft gray would be nice,” she suggested, half turning to scrutinize the walls opposite the windows. “Gray can be very calmi-“_

_“Are you mocking me?” he cut her off gruffly and she turned back to him in surprise._

_“Am I… mocking you?” She looked at him questioningly but his frown stayed and so did his piercing gaze. “Draco, I might tease you here and there but I will never mock you.”_

_He stared at her for another few moments then his jaw shifted slightly and she exhaled a breath of relief._

_“A light gray could be a calming, muted color for the background and then we could have other things to provide a splash of color here and there. We could have a mural added or some child-appropriate artworks or something.” She walked around the room, gesturing with her arms this way and that._

_“I suppose that could be suitable,” he agreed reluctantly._

_“I think I want white furniture.”_

_“_White_… furniture?”_

_“Yes, or a very light wood. This room should feel bright and airy.” She nodded decidedly. “How far is this room from your rooms? I feel that it might be the end of the corridor, if my dimensions aren’t totally off?”_

_“This room is at the end of the corridor and borders on both your rooms and mine,” he confirmed._

_“Very good, you’ll need a door somewhere there too then.” She pointed to the wall she thought this room shared with his._

_“Why would I need a door to the nursery?” He allowed a rare expression of confusion or puzzlement to show._

_“My dear,” she began, fixing him with a firm look, “if you think you can get out of diaper-changing or getting-up-at-night duties, then you are sorely mistaken!”_

_He stared at her. “Diaper-changing? There’s elves for that, Ruth. Nibly will do that.”_

_Ruth looked at him for a few moments. It probably was that way, wasn’t it? In a pureblood home with plenty of house-elves?_

_“Who changed your diapers?” she wanted to know and his face became blank again. A weird question, she was well aware._

_“Nibly,” he answered finally._

_“All of them?” She arched an eyebrow._

_“I don’t believe either of my parents ever changed any of mine, no,” he elaborated stiffly._

_Ruth let out a hum. “I see. Well, you want this child to grow up in both worlds and in the world I grew up in, fathers take a more hands-on approach to parenting. So congratulations, you will be changing diapers and getting up at night when the baby cries as well. Surprise!” She gave him a very wide smile that reminded him of a shark._

_His only option was to nod and accept his fate._

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take a look at Ruth's new headband [here](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/3c/20/a7/3c20a7f85b54ec1e8092878d2096384e.jpg).
> 
> [Mah Nà Mah Nà Song](https://youtu.be/_Unv07MOp5c?t=202) (in a compilation of Classic Sesame Street) 


	22. One step forward, three steps back (IV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hallelujah, it's the last of the snippet-of-present-with-flashbacks chapters!  
I literally finished it five minutes ago and usually I'd sit on this for a day or two at least but I'm so happy I managed to finish it that I'll just put it out now. Writing has been so difficult for me in the past weeks that I could honestly cry that I managed to complete this right now :)  
As always I'd love to hear what you think!

~*~*~*~

Ruth’s eyes were narrowed in concentration but more so in determination. Her toes were lined exactly on the edge that differentiated between her conservatory and the garden around it. Hardwood floor versus gravel path. Her right hand was clutching the frame of the glass door leading outside, her left clenched in a fist at her side.

She could do this. She knew it. She could move her feet, one then the other, onto the gravel path. She could step outside. She could, she knew it. Now she just had to do it.

“Nothing’s going to happen to you, Ruth-Anne,” she whispered to herself. “This house and this garden are safe for you. Draco has all the wards and there are no visitors today. If something happens, you can immediately call Neesy. You are safe.”

For many long moments her feet did not comply with the command she was giving them but then, suddenly, the right one moved and then she was one foot inside, one foot outside. She held onto the door frame for dear life and took several calming breaths.

With a nod to herself, she summoned the energy to move her left foot as well. Two feet outside, practically her whole body outside. Just her hand still holding onto the door frame.

She let out an uneven breath, and peeled her hand off the frame. Her fingers felt stiff from how tightly she had been gripping it and she wrung them for a few moments before it caught up with her.

She was outside.

She exhaled slowly, unsure if she was panicking or not, looking around nervously, and swallowed.

She was outside. She was standing outside her conservatory, on the gravel path, in the middle of the blooming flower beds.

She exhaled again, starting to recognize that what she was feeling wasn’t panic. It was relief. She had really done it. She was standing in the garden.

“Oh God.” She covered her face with her hands and felt like crying and laughing at the same time. “Okay. Come on. One more.”

Her knees felt wobbly and her feet anything but steady, but she got herself to take three more steps. That didn’t take her too far from the conservatory door at all but it was four steps, four steps! She was four steps from the house, in the garden. Four steps. All by herself. Four steps!

Sensing that she couldn’t take a fifth one, at least not today, she looked around herself. All the beautiful flowers the elves had planted at Draco’s request. So beautiful to see but even more beautiful to smell, and to touch. The petals, the leaves, the stems, even the damp soil felt wonderful under her fingertips.

She was kneeling on the ground, digging her fingers into the earth, when she heard her name being called.

“Ruth?”

Draco.

“Ruth, I need to talk to you. You haven’t-“ He broke off, probably just then noticing she was not in the conservatory like Neesy would have told him she was. “Ruth?”

She sat up and looked over to where she could see him clearly through the open door and the glass. He looked around, growing more frantic by the moment it seemed.

“Ruth?! RUTH?!”

“I’m here,” she called out finally, struggling to her feet. He was next to her steadying her quicker than she had thought possibly.

“What are you doing out here?! What happened? Why would you-“ The questions flowed from his mouth quickly while he looked her over for any injuries but then he stopped. And stared. “You’re outside.” His eyes were fixed on her dirty fingers, the soil still clinging to her skin, the dirt under her fingernails.

“I am.” She gave a tentative smile but then it faded when she saw his face become impassive again and he straightened up.

“It only makes sense, I suppose,” he said stiffly and walked beside her but never touching her again when she went back inside. He shut the door after her with a little more force than the door needed, she found. “You haven’t returned the papers yet.”

“No, I have not.” She sat in her usual spot. He remained standing. “None of the five copies you have sent. And I won’t return any other ones you send either.”

His jaw shifted but otherwise he remained the perfect mask of calm. But she knew his tells now, some of them at least, and he was anything but calm. “They need to be filed so I’m afraid you will have to return any of the copies. With your signature, of course.”

“Neesy,” Ruth called and the elf appeared. “Would you please bring me the jar in the top right drawer of the parlor chest?”

“Of course, Miss Ruthie!” Neesy disappeared and returned with a simple mason jar filled with a dark substance. “Here you are, Miss Ruthie!”

“Thank you very much, Neesy.” Ruth took the jar and stood it on the coffee table in front of her. It was becoming more difficult to reach and turn while sitting down but she managed. “There you go.” She gestured to the jar, looking at her husband.

He stared at the jar of ashes unblinking.

“You could try to file these but I’m not sure any attorney or court would deem them acceptable for filing.”

“Is this all a joke to you, Ruth-Anne?” he snapped at her, his eyes piercing right through her.

“I don’t find this particularly amusing at all,” she answered flatly. “I actually find it rather disturbing.”

“You find it rather disturbing?” He scoffed. “Need I remind you that you asked for this? You wanted the house. I will send you one more copy and you will return them signed tomorrow.”

“No,” she said simply.

He stared at her. “No?”

She nodded. “No. I don’t want to sign them so I won’t.”

He looked on the verge of exploding. “You don’t want to sign them?!”

“Exactly.” She looked him straight into the eyes. “I don’t want to sign them so I won’t. And you can’t make me. If you want me to leave then you’ll have to go ahead and have be declared incompetent and placed under guardianship. It would only take you one interview with my mind healer.”

He didn’t understand, she could see that in his eyes. He had been operating on her misspoken request without the explanation she had wanted him to give for the past week and none of what she had just said fit with the idea he had been running with.

“_You_ asked for the house and _you_ redistributed your allowance to a vault in Miss Granger’s name and _you_-“ He was preparing himself to blow up, she could tell. But she wasn’t going to let him.

“Incorrect,” she interrupted him. “The vault is her name, mine and Hannah’s.”

Draco barely suppressed a growl of anger. “So they _are_ involved.”

“Of course they are, they’re my friends.” Ruth looked at him, meeting his glare evenly. “I did ask for the house, yes,” she allowed. “But I misspoke in the way I asked for it which I tried to tell you but you didn’t want to listen. I asked many times during the last week to explain myself, all of which you declined. I will not sign the papers, no matter how many times you send them, and you cannot make me. Now I will go and be with someone who will properly celebrate my milestone with me. It may have only been four steps but four steps are worth more than a marathon to me. I’ll see you at dinner.” And then she stood up and walked out of the room.

~*~*~*~

_He came in quietly, tiptoeing until she paused the reading charm on the book that she had charmed. She waited until he had joined her on the chaise lounge, sitting where her feet were and drawing them into his lap. She gave him a smile and waved her hand for the book to continue._

The little prince went away, to look again at the roses.

“You are not at all like my rose,” he said. “As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world.” (1)

_The Little Prince was always a book that tugged on Ruth’s heartstrings but that Draco was joining her just for this part… She glanced over to him but she couldn’t read from his face whether or not this part resonated with him as much as it did with her. She had not tamed her husband in the slightest but before their marriage he had been a man among thousands, hundred thousands, millions even. But she was making him her friend, and he was unique._

And the roses were very much embarrassed.

"You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you--the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or ever sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose. (1)

_Unknown to her it was the next bit that touched something within Draco. Ruth had been a woman, the daughter of two Muggle-borns, a means to an end, the person who could birth the heir that he needed for him. But now she was so much more. She was like that rose, in a story that he didn’t know because he had missed the beginning, everything he had been doing since approaching her could, in some way, be considered as watering her, sheltering her. She was his rose now._

And he went back to meet the fox.

"Goodbye," he said.

"Goodbye," said the fox. "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."

"What is essential is invisible to the eye," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

"It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important."

"It is the time I have wasted for my rose--" said the little prince, so that he would be sure to remember.

"Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose..."

"I am responsible for my rose," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember. (1)

_It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. The most quoted sentence from The Little Prince, Ruth knew, and also so very, very true as she looked at her husband, deep in thought, staring outside into the garden._

_What was essential was invisible to the eye. All those things that made him him, all those things that made him marry her and shelter her like the rose, they were invisible to the eye. Those could only be seen with the heart._

_“You’re a heart seer,” Draco said suddenly, head turning to meet her eyes. The book went on in the background. “And a rose.”_

_Ruth couldn’t help but smile and shifted, knee-walking on the chaise lounge to reach him. “And you, my dear, are a fox,” she replied, cupping his face in her hands and kissing the corner of his mouth._

_“I suppose I am.” Mischief twinkled in his eyes and she grinned._

_“How about a fox-trot?”_

_That drew a laugh from him and he carefully disentangled himself from her to stand and offer her his hand. “May I have the pleasure of this next dance, Mrs. Malfoy?”_

_“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Malfoy.” She took his hand and let him help her up before he led her to the ballroom._

~*~*~*~

_Ruth stopped her chatter with which she had filled the walk from the dining room to her rooms where she had been planning on taking after-dinner tea with her husband when said husband tugged ever so lightly on her arm that was looped around his. She stood still in the corridor between the doors to their respective parlors and found him to be leaning towards his own rather than hers. Fighting down a wave of disappointment she reminded herself that Draco was allowed to have companionable days as well as less companionable days just like she did._

_“Where are you going?” he asked when she turned towards her own door and he held a tight grip of her wrist as she did so._

_“You’re…” She gestured to his door._

_He avoided her eyes for a few moments of silence but then glanced at her with distinct shyness. “Would you mind taking tea with me in my rooms tonight?” he asked hesitantly._

_Ruth blinked at him for a moment then a smile started spreading on her face, which was nice but even better was that she found one spreading on his face in response. “I’d love to,” she assured him and squeezed his hand._

_So Draco opened the door to his own parlor and led her inside. Kinsy brought the tea tray and Draco prepared their usual evening brew. Ruth reveled in the fact that after fixing their cups, he took a seat right next to her. And from his facial expression she was sure he reveled in the fact that she had no qualms about reaching for his hand and placing it on the part of her belly where she could feel their child moving._

~*~*~*~

_Ruth hurried through the door to the ballroom, in a rush from having napped just a little too long, and stopped dead in her tracks when her mind finally registered that which her eyes were perceiving. The ballroom that usually fairly empty but not entirely without decoration had been decorated a little more extensively. Not nearly as much as it had been for their wedding ball of course but the flower arrangements and the single table towards a corner near the doors leading out onto the terrace were definitely reminiscent of that occasion._

_And Draco was also most definitely more dressed up than he usually was for their afternoon dances. No wonder Neesy had laid out the dark blue velvet dress and fixed up her bed-head into an artful up-do with a few bejeweled hairpins stuck into it after her nap and Ruth was also now glad that she had let herself be talked into wearing Narcissa’s wedding presents with the dress. Draco was matching her attire in a premeditated way, with his decidedly Muggle dress shirt and trousers but most of all with the dark blue bow tie around his neck. The latter of which of course made Ruth giggle when she spotted it._

_“So this is what you look like in a bow tie,” she commented, accepting his proffered hand and interlacing their fingers. “I didn’t think you’d take it so seriously and even more so that you would make good on your promise so quickly.”_

_“I intend to hold the promises I make to you,” he told her and there was something in there that she couldn’t quite place. “I was wondering if you would allow me to revisit one I made but renounced shortly after.”_

_Ruth tilted her head to the side. “I don’t recall you ever breaking a promise you made to me, Draco.”_

_But then he produced something from his pocket and her stomach dropped, if possible around the baby, into her shoes. In the palm of his hand he had two circles made of gold, including the one she had given him seven months ago._

_“May I?” He gestured to her left hand which she gave him, her fingers shaking. His gray eyes did not waver from her brown ones for even a second as he spoke: “I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, take you, Ruth-Anne Norrington, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part.” Then he gently slid the extra band onto her third finger to rest perfectly above the first ring he had given her._

_“You didn’t have to-“ she started to speak but a squeeze of his hand silenced her._

_“I wanted to.” He waited until she had nodded to that then he offered her the ring she had given him all those months ago, before she’d gotten to know him, before she’d known how much he was capable and willing to do for her. Repeating the vow back to him now felt even more significant than it had that night._

_“I, Ruth-Anne Norrington, take you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part.” She struggled to slide the ring back onto his finger where she had already put it once, not because it no longer fit but because her hands were shaking so much. With all her heart she hoped that he wouldn’t take it off again because she didn’t know if she could bear it a second time._

_Draco wagged his eyebrows at her just once when she looked back up at him and it felt somewhat familiar that she took a moment or two to understand. Then she couldn’t help but laugh and grin._

_“You may now kiss the bride,” she announced as pompously as she could and was still laughing when his lips pressed to hers. “And don’t you ever stop again,” she whispered to him between the first and the second kiss, and a seemingly endless string of kisses were what followed._

_“If this is what you do just randomly, you’re setting the bar quite high for yourself for our anniversary.” Ruth shook her head as her husband filled her wine glass with a dark red liquid from a decanter that she knew was grape juice, just not the fermented one. He poured himself a glass of it as well and picked it up._

_“I think we have set a fine precedent with our ball last year,” he told her and held her gaze as they clinked their glasses against each other. “How would you like to have one every year?”_

_She blinked at him. “What?”_

_“As far as I’ve gathered last year’s ball was a success and whilst I enjoy our afternoon dances immensely, I cannot deny the desire of showing you off occasionally. As it would be in our home, you would be able to attend and it would sate my mother’s yearning for planning and executing social events again.”_

_Ruth blinked again but then just shrugged. “Sounds like a plan.” She could do one ball a year, couldn’t she? If she got to dance with Draco all night and wear even more beautiful dresses then it was hardly a hardship._

_“If you wanted to, you could use it for charity,” Draco said then and her head snapped up. “It’d be best to inquire from Mother and your friends if they thought people would be amenable to it, but it would be possible to exchange invitations for donations to a cause of your choice.”_

_Ruth blinked some more and swallowed thickly. “Do you think that would work?”_

_He gave her a deep look. “I think anything you set your mind to can work.”_

~*~*~*~

(1) Excerpt from “The Little Prince” by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. This wonderful book can be read online [here](https://www.gurusum.com/2019/08/the-little-prince-antoine-de-saint.html) in English. 


	23. One leap of faith forward (V)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, here we are! The final chapter of this WRETCHED five chapter arch.  
Safe to say, I will not be doing one of those again any time soon...  
Thank you for all the lovely comments again! I'd love to hear your thoughts on the conclusion of this little nerve-robbing five-chapter-arch-from-hell too!  
I now have to map out a little more what is going to happen next, because baby time is coming closer and so on. Also, if you have ideas or suggestions for baby names, they are entirely welcome! :)

~*~*~*~

Dinner was as usual. Delicious, but stilted. There had not been true conversation at dinner for a week and for Ruth it had ceased to be awkward, now it was just highly uncomfortable. Every evening after the first silent one she had fought with herself to skip it, but she hadn’t.

Her adventure to the garden, all four steps of it, was wind beneath her wings at this dinner. She had been thinking about this for a few days and maybe her mistake last time had been that she had only written down what she wanted to say but she hadn’t practiced. But this she had practiced, had said the words out loud not just a few times, had tried different wording and then had settled for the one she liked the best.

“Narcissa,” she said and the room came to a short halt before Narcissa continued with her dinner, and so did Draco after another moment.

“Yes, dear?”

“I was wondering if you would do me a favor.” Ruth was looking only at her mother-in-law, not at Draco, but of course she had a bit of him in the corner of her eye. He had stopped eating, staring at her instead. She had practiced her words, written out several different versions and chosen carefully what she was going to say. There was no coincidence in the use of a very particular word. A word that made him listen, apparently. Maybe she should have used it before.

“Of course, what do you need?” Narcissa’s immediate willingness to assist and support Ruth made the younger woman swallow against a small lump forming in her throat. But she could not allow herself to become too emotional, like she had been the last time, with Draco.

“I, or rather we, need your expertise in interior design,” Ruth told her and tried to breathe deeply but inconspicuously which she was quite sure wasn’t working. Both Malfoys could probably very well tell that she was nervous.

Narcissa remained silent for a moment, Ruth could read on her face that she was only now resigning herself to her daughter-in-law actually moving out. Ruth carried on.

“It’s for a project that we, that are Hermione, Hannah and myself, have been working on for a few months. Hermione is still working out quite a few kinks but we are cautiously confident that we can proceed with the more concrete aspects of our project.”

Narcissa looked curious while Draco’s stare was still piercing through Ruth which she tried to ignore.

“What kind of project is it?” Narcissa asked, just as Ruth had intended. She couldn’t fight the feeling that Narcissa was trying to play along as best as she could with this uncharted terrain Ruth was moving onto.

Ruth swallowed and looked at her plate for a moment to gather herself. This was the core bit, the one she had written too many versions of, she realized as she couldn’t remember which one she had decided on in the end. Her plate as no help, it couldn’t magically show her the notes tucked into a pocket of her dress. And she needed to answer, too many moments had already passed since Narcissa’s question and-

Deep breath, Ruth, she told herself. Herself? The voice in her head didn’t fully sound like herself and her mind flashed a picture of the person at her, the reason why she was doing this, whom she was doing this for. Whom she was doing everything for.

She took another deep breath and straightened up again with her head held high.

“Since I have come here, I have been doing much better in many aspects of my health, both physical and mental. I know that this is because of the privilege of marrying into a wealthy family, a privilege I did not have before so I had to work and was unable to care for myself in a way that would have enabled me to truly get better.” She swallowed against the reappearing lump in her throat. “It was once my dream to do what Hannah is doing now but I know that I am not fit for doing so right now, or in the nearer future. Maybe ever.”

No one said anything because it was the truth and Ruth was thankful that neither of them was trying to gloss over it. This was her reality and she had to accept that while still trying to get better every day. Aside from allowing herself to grieve for her family, she had to allow herself to grieve her dreams and plans, the things that could have been but weren’t. She was learning and practicing every week with her therapist.

“What I _can_ do is to share my privilege. Not having to work, and having help around, and having unlimited access to medical services has been paramount in the progress I have made in the last months. There are many, many people who could benefit greatly from having the same care.”

Ruth told herself to focus on looking at Narcissa who was looking back at her so encouragingly and openly that she almost teared up.

“Hermione and Hannah have been helping me to devise a plan for establishing a place where people can receive this. Hannah is our liaison with St. Mungo’s and Hermione has been working on the legal aspects and the paper work. My area is the funding and the property. The former I have covered for the initial needs, the latter we need your help with. We want the house to be a place of comfort and you have-“

Ruth was cut off abruptly. Draco had shot to his feet, his chair falling backwards with a loud noise, and then he was striding out of the room before anyone could say anything. Ruth wasn’t even confident she could say what expression had been on his face, if any.

This had been a possibility that Ruth had considered when making her plan to ask Narcissa for help over family dinner. That Draco would storm out, most likely angry. That she wouldn’t get to finish explaining. That he wouldn’t finish listening to her again.

Ruth swallowed thickly and pressed her lips together. Then Narcissa covered her hand with her own and squeezed lightly.

She looked up and saw something flash in the look Narcissa gave her. What are you going to do now?, Narcissa seemed to be asking silently. But there was something else in there too, something that…

Ruth felt resolve grow within herself. “I should go after him,” she said to her mother-in-law and stood up.

“You should,” Narcissa agreed. “And I’d be honored to help with your project, Ruth-Anne. Pospy.” The elf appeared. “Please take Ruth-Anne to wherever my son has undoubtedly locked himself in. You have my permission to unlock whatever physical or magical blockades he has instated.”

Pospy nodded and led Ruth out of the room.

Ruth wasn’t led to the corridor she shared with her husband but to his study in the adjacent wing. Not for the first time she asked herself whether that was intentional, only to chide herself with her knowledge that nothing in this house was unintentional. Everything had a purpose.

They both flinched when they heard a loud crash from inside. Ruth was almost sure that Pospy had rolled her eyes before the elf waved her hand over the door handle and it opened. She went ahead of Ruth.

“Mistress Ruth-Anne for Master Draco,” the elf declared in an almost belligerent way, eyeing Draco darkly. Pospy waved her hand and the books and the chair Draco had evidently thrown around the room put themselves to rights again. The man let out a huff that was almost a growl which the elf ignored.

“Call Pospy or Neesy if you need anything, Mistress Ruth-Anne,” Pospy told Ruth and left when Ruth nodded.

Ruth turned to her husband when the door was closed and was surprised, and worried, to see him staring at her very angrily. She swallowed.

Draco had a temper and he threw things around when he was angry, but only ever if he was alone. She trusted him that he would contain himself at least that much in her presence. But she was less worried about him throwing things had her, his words had much more power to hurt her than any flying book could.

“I’m sorry,” she said cautiously. Maybe she could make a start, extend the proverbial olive branch. Not that he was likely to know what that idiom meant. Many fellow students had had a vague knowledge of certain references from the Muggle world and the world of religion, but this could not be said for the pureblood circles Draco had been socialized in.

She was sorry, too. It wasn’t just something she was saying to be the first one to say something. She was sorry that by not trusting him enough, however justified that had been, and by not doing what she wished he was doing, opening up, she had hurt him. Because that was what it boiled down to, he was hurt.

“Stop,” he cut her off wearily, waving his hand. He turned his back towards her and looked straight ahead for several long moments.

“Draco, I-“

“How do you do it?” burst out of him suddenly and she jumped from how exasperated he sounded. “How is it possible that every day you are more… more _you_ than the one before? How can you be more perfect any given day, more like your house?” The words dripped heavily of accusation, and frustration.

“I’m not perfect, I-“ She fumbled for words because maybe that was how he saw her, how he wanted to see her, but she really wasn’t perfect, she had so much to learn still and she wasn’t-

He turned around, looking pained. “How can you be the most infuriatingly unselfish person I have ever met?” He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up. “Is there anyone on this planet more compassionate, more loving, more giving than you? I’m certain there is not.”

Ruth bit on her lower lip to keep herself quiet because he wasn’t finished yet and she wanted to listen what he had to say when he was finally speaking to her.

“And I’m the fool who married you,” he snorted and she couldn’t help a giggle at that. “Yes, laugh at me, you should.” She didn’t hide her grin then. “I’m the fool who married you because… I married you and like an absolute fool I thought it wouldn’t change anything, that you would just be there and that was it. But it wasn’t, it really wasn’t.” He paced a few steps back and forth. “Now we’re having a baby whose diapers I will have to change, and the elves are learning to read from your children’s books, and I built a fucking room of glass for you because you can’t go outside, only today you did, and now…” His shoulders dropped as he exhaled deeply.

She swallowed against the lump forming in her throat, not because of what he was saying but because he seemed so frustrated and almost helpless with everything that she just wanted to hold his hand, maybe hug him if he’d allow it, and be able to tell him everything would be alright. Only she couldn’t because they didn’t know that. No one knew that and she had hated everyone who had tried to tell her this after the war. They had gone through too much to believe that everything would be just easy-peasy peachy alright again.

“I am not a good man, Ruth.” He silenced her protest with a look. “I’m not. I’m not a good husband either. I’m a selfish, arrogant, rash and stubborn man. Beyond that I am a coward and a crook.”

She pressed her lips together again.

“But you are none of these things, Ruth,” he said and suddenly his voice was so soft and gentle, such a stark contrast, the complete opposite of his tone just moments before. “And I should have known that. I should have known that when you asked me about the property and you looked so horrified of yourself and kept saying you had misspoken, I should have known that there would not be a single malicious intention or thought behind it.”

The obvious meaning of his words stood in the air although the individual words did not come over his lips, yet.

“Maybe you should have known,” she said quietly and eliminated the distance between them with a few steps to take his hand so he wouldn’t try to retreat from this. The emptiness of the third finger on his left hand registered to her, once more, but she pushed the thought aside. “But we have only been married for nine months, Draco, and we have been friends for less than that. You know some things about me, and some of them well, but you don’t know all of me. And I don’t know all of you. We’re learning, aren’t we?” She gave his hand a squeeze.

“I thought we weren’t going back to school,” he grumbled lightheartedly.

Ruth smiled. “Learning isn’t just for school and I think you know that.”

He nodded shortly.

“Just like you know some things about me, I know some things about you as well,” she went on, seeking and then finding his gaze. “I know that you are the man who gave me all the privileges I mentioned at dinner. You’re the man who built a room of glass for me so I could look outside when I couldn’t go outside. You’re the man who sends me flowers every week. You’re the man who gave me a piano, and piano lessons. You’re the man who dances with me in the afternoons. You’re the man who has after-dinner tea with me. You’re the man who slept on my sofa for months because of my nightmares. You’re the man who had electricity and telephones and cable TV installed in a house that used to be the headquarters of pureblood supremacists.”

His face changed at that last sentence and she could see a look in his eyes she had only started to understand recently. Self-loathing. She had seen it many times before, she realized.

“You’re also the man who did his time for his crimes and who regrets them every day, and tries to do what he can to atone for them.”

He shook his head but Ruth went on.

“You’re also the man who will teach his son values that have never existed in such a way in this family.”

He glanced at her middle, the protruding roundness of her belly where their child was growing.

“And you’re the man who will know from now on that sometimes his wife gets nervous and says stupid things. And you’re the man who will hopefully listen to his wife better from now on.”

He finally looked up to her face then and then he nodded, a very, very guilty and sheepish look on his face. For long moments he didn’t speak but then his lips moved and she almost didn’t hear the words he was saying.

“I’m sorry, forgive me.”

The tears that welled in her eyes could not be blamed entirely on pregnancy hormones and she gave him a shaky, teary smile. “I forgive you,” she said quietly and he looked like he was fighting for his composure as well. “Will you forgive me as well?”

“What for?” He looked entirely puzzled.

“For not including you in my project. Keeping secrets is not good behavior between friends.”

“You have every right to keep things to yourself, I shouldn’t-“

She gave him a look and he went silent. Then he maneuvered her quickly into a chair when she shifted her weight from one to the other leg for the third time in just a few minutes. She grabbed a hold of his hand before he could step away again.

“I didn’t keep it a secret because I thought you would hate it or stop me from doing it. In fact, I knew that you would probably throw mountains of money and resources on anything I showed an interest in doing.”

“I still will,” he pointed out stubbornly and it made her smile.

“You may,” she allowed with a cheeky little look up at him and he eyed her in a way that he had definitely noticed.

“The thing was… is…” She pursed her lips for a moment. “I live in my little bubble here and I scarcely know what is going on in the world outside. There are days I can only sit on my sofa and do my needlework or watch the garden. I…” She breathed deeply. “Even now, with Hannah and Hermione and so much already done, I doubt that I can do it. I want to do it so desperately, I wanted to do it on my own so, so much, without your help, without anyone’s help. I didn’t even really ask Hannah or Hermione for help, I just asked them if they knew who I’d have to ask for permission or something. I…” She looked up at him and he squeezed her hand tightly in response. “I want to be able to do so many things without help, by myself, and that I can’t is… I really, really, really hate it.” Her brows pulled together in a deep frown. Then her scowl deepened because he laughed.

“I’m not laughing at you, Ruth,” he assured her quickly. “It’s just… I’ve never seen you look so angry as just now. Like you’re personally offended.”

“I am personally offended,” she grumbled. “By myself. I just want this stupid thing up here to be alright again so I can do things.” She almost pouted.

Draco pulled up a chair to sit with her, so closely their knees were touching. “You will get better.”

“But it’s taking so long.” She did pout then. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

“You went outside today,” he reminded her and the look in his eyes made her tear up again. He was proud of her.

“I did,” she whispered hoarsely. “Four steps.”

“The bravest and strongest four steps anyone has ever taken.”

She nodded weakly.

“And others can try to do the same in your house.” He offered a tentative smile.

“You think we can do it?”

He gave a firm nod. “I doubt that a project spearheaded by you, Hannah and Hermione could be anything but a thorough success.”

She smiled shyly. “I hope so.”

“If you’ll allow me, there are a few mountains of money I’d like to pass into your capable hands but there are also a few connections I still have that might prove useful.”

Ruth nodded immediately. “Yes, please.”

Draco nodded as well. “I will send some letters tomorrow.”

“Will you come and have after-dinner tea with me?” They had resolved pretty much everything but she still felt a little unsure of how quickly they could bounce back to a week ago. But maybe she didn’t want to bounce back to a week ago. It had been a miserable week but this talk, or whatever you wanted to call this, was important.

“Only if you’ll allow me to call for the rest of our dinner as well.” He stood and offered her his hand. She took it and let him help her stand as well.

“Evening snack!” she cheered and beamed when he laughed.

~*~*~*~


	24. Gaining momentum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hi, good evening! Long time no see, I know... The last month or so has been pretty crazy and it took until just now (literally ten minutes ago) for all the bits and pieces I managed to write to tie together into one chapter. I might be developing a bad habit of posting as soon as I'm finished with a chapter but eh. That's just how I roll right now :)  
We are very fast approaching baby time, folks, as in next chapter fast. I think. That's my plan right now at least. (And no, I will not allow my brain another five-chapter-arch blib. Been there, done that, moving on haha)  
Anyway, here is chapter 24, I hope you like it and I'd love to hear from you about it!

~*~*~*~

“Ruth?!”

Ruth turned around and a smile spread on her face. She waved at the rapidly approaching man and gave a little yelp when she was swept into a hug.

“Whoa, careful there, Neville,” she chuckled but hugged him right back. She knew where the gush of emotionality had come from.

“You’re outside,” Neville murmured into her hair, sounding so stunned and overwhelmed that Ruth felt a lump grow in her throat once again. It seemed to be happening frequently, every time she ventured outside however far she could manage and someone found her there. Narcissa hadn’t said a word for nearly fifteen minutes when she had found her daughter-in-law smelling the flowers just a few steps outside the conservatory. Now the elves were vigorously gardening this exact area. When Ruth wasn’t getting in their way, that was.

“I’m outside and I’m gardening!” Ruth replied, aiming for lighthearted and humorous but the slight rasp to her voice dampened that somewhat. She held up her hands for Neville to see the earth that clung to them.

“You’re eight months pregnant!” he chided her with a disapproving look.

“Yeah, so? I can sit on the ground on a cushion and poke around in the dirt just fine. ’s just the getting up I need help with,” she replied with a shrug. 

Neville eyed her suspiciously. “And what does Draco think about this?”

“What Draco thinks about this has absolutely no bearing on this and he has been welcomed to keep his unnecessary opinions to himself,” Ruth explained sweetly.

Neville stared at her for another moment then released a big sigh. “Wait until I tell Hannah.”

“She will be welcome to keep her opinions to herself as well,” Ruth announced cheerfully and turned towards where she had indeed been sitting on a cushion poking around in the dirt before Neville had called for her. “Feel like helping my garden along a bit, Professor Longbottom? To be honest, it is quite hard to reach.” She patted her protruding middle affectionately.

He stared at her but then just took her hand and squeezed it, smile growing on his face. “I’m sure I can help you poke around in some dirt, Ruthie.”

“One would hope, seeing as you’re the Herbology teacher!” she chuckled. “Now, Narcissa has the elves do loads of things but I fought to have my own bed of things so…” She led him over to one of the flower beds that was fairly close to the conservatory. Narcissa had picked it so that Ruth could reach it even if she could only go a few steps. It looked significantly… wilder than the other flower beds surrounding it.

“I see what you mean,” Neville commented with a snort and went right to it. After helping Ruth sit on her cushion again, of course.

~*~*~*~

The conservatory looked very different. What Ruth, by comparison, would have called the Comfy Sitting Area had been pushed together and to the side to make the space for what constituted as the Serious Sitting Area. It almost looked ready for a business meeting with the big, long table, and the carefully aligned stacks of paper atop of it, and the people waiting to sit around it.

It hadn’t been the greatest day for her so far, mostly due to nerves, and Draco had made sure that she got every minute of midday nap before their meeting that she could get. Which was sweet but now, as she entered the conservatory on his arm, Ruth felt a little drowsy still, not all woken up, not all there yet. Her fingers tensed around her husband’s elbow slightly as she saw the people waiting for their meeting to begin, the people Draco and Hannah and Hermione had invited, who all had been waiting for her to arrive now. Of course Draco noticed and he covered her fingers in the crook of his elbow with his other hand, offering a soothing, warm touch to reassure her.

He pulled out the chair at the head of the table for her which didn’t make the lump in her throat any smaller, or the importance of the meeting any lighter on her shoulders. Everyone else took their seats as well, with Draco and Narcissa to her right and Hannah and Hermione to her left. Next to Hermione was Harry who looked mostly curious, across from him Neville who was trying to communicate to his wife that he would very much like to know what the hell was going on, solely through looks. As he had been since arriving and realizing that this wasn’t just a fun little get-together in Ruth’s conservatory. The presence  of the additional people, namely Theo and Pansy Nott, Susan Bones  and Percy Weasley , made it blatantly obvious that this was not a morning tea.

Ruth sat down, everyone following suit, and reached for the papers in front of her with shaking hands. All eyes were on her, she could feel every single one, and the lump in her throat thickened to the point where she knew that no sound would leave her throat. She smoothed down the papers, trying to conceal the shaking of her hand but surely unable to hide it, as all eyes were on her. Once more a warm hand enclosed hers, taking her out of the spiral of her thoughts and nerves. Draco’s fingers were always, always, always warm around hers and the little glint of the ring around his finger- She squeezed back slightly and raised her gaze, daring only a quick glance around the curious, attentive faces before she forced the first words from her lips, because the first ones were always the hardest and after that it became easier.

“Thank you all for coming,” she began and released Draco’s hand from hers to pick up the script she had worked on with him. “As you have probably realized by now, this is not just a morning tea in my wonderful conservatory, we are actually here for business.” She caught the little quirk around her husband’s lips and couldn’t help but smile herself. “You were invited today because I need your help.”

The meeting went far longer than Ruth was able to, and did, attend. She gave a heartfelt introduction to her idea and then handed over to Hermione and Hannah to explain their areas of expertise. There were so many questions, and so many more ideas, and so many offers of help, and so many things to consider, and, and, and, and, and.

The bottom line of it all though, and the only thing that made Ruth agree to leave the rest of the meeting in her friends’ capable hands after they had been served a light lunch that had been largely ignored in favor of continued discussions, was that everyone was on board. She hadn’t even finished a third of her own speech when she could already see Neville wanting to jump in shouting: ‘I’m in, I’ll do whatever you need!’ Harry looked much of the same, a very determined set to his jaw and brows becoming more pronounced the longer the meeting went on. Then there were Pansy and Theo who hadn’t looked like they felt like they belonged at first but then Narcissa had come in and enlisted her for some more property design questions. Ruth had caught one look Theo had given Draco and she was pretty sure there was another pile of money miraculously going to make its way into the designated vault relatively promptly. Susan who had followed her aunt’s footsteps into the Wizengamot was all in with Hermione for fine-tuning the proposal. The person who probably had felt the most out of place but Ruth had felt very necessary was Percy Weasley. Hermione had somewhat reluctantly suggested him when Ruth had repeatedly stressed that they needed someone aside from Hermione who knew their laws and decrees and all that stuff. Percy had started scribbling away a bunch of notes at an early point and seemed as invested as everyone else did.

Ruth was quiet on the way back to her quarters, one hand tucked into Draco’s elbow and the other resting on her belly. He led her right through into her bedroom and helped with her shoes while she sat on the edge of her bed, still deep in thought. He massaged her swollen ankles for a bit before he encouraged her to lie down.

“It’s really going to happen, isn’t it?” she asked quietly when he pulled the light blanket up to her shoulders.

“It is,” he confirmed. He hesitated for a moment, then he knelt at the side of her bed to be level with her. “And when it is finished, she will live there.”

Ruth stared at him for several very long moments. He held her gaze the entire time. Even as her eyes started to fill with tears. Even as she whisper-yelled at him not to get her hopes up. Even as she brokenly asked him if he was really, really actually serious?! Because he couldn’t be?! They had told her that no one could do anything for Daisy?! But he had said ‘live’?! He had said ‘she will  _live_ there’?! And he had promised her to help her either way?! And he had said ‘live’?!

He remained calm and stable through that entire roller coaster ride of emotions. He repeated himself each and every time she asked him again, and again, and again, and his answer was the same again, and again, and again. Daisy would  _live_ in the Norrington-Longbottom House.

~*~*~*~

Over the time that she had been living at Malfoy Manor, Ruth had seen more doctors than she had seen in her entire life before that. At least it felt that way. Every week she saw her therapist and every few weeks the obstetric/gynecological team that was monitoring her pregnancy. Since progressing into her 30th week of pregnancy, those check-ups had been every two weeks and for the (estimated) last four weeks they would be weekly.

The nursery was finished now and connected to both Ruth’s as well as Draco’s quarters just like she had requested. The furniture was of a very light colored wood that she had already forgotten the name of and via her friends she had had Dean Thomas coming in to add a magical mural of a meadow scene with a few trees to two of the walls. Draco hadn’t outright said it but all of this was highly unusual for the Malfoy family.

One piece of furniture Ruth had explicitly requested had been a rocking chair. It was intricately carved of the same wood as the rest of the furniture and situated next to the crib. When Draco had shown her, when the furniture had arrived, and she’d said that since the baby was likely to sleep in her room for the first while she would take it over into her bedroom, a second rocking chair had appeared within a week. This one of the same wood as her bedroom furniture. She had just given her husband a look which he had pretended not to see.

At least the cot was back in her bedroom now and she was sure that he was going to come over soon to lie down in it, exhausted from the business trip he had been on the last three days. Just a few hours ago she had been so looking forward to him coming back but now the thought didn’t help the tight coil her stomach had been in since the check-up this afternoon, the first one he had missed.

She really didn’t know why they hadn’t just rescheduled, especially when they had been notified this morning that her usual healer was tied up with a difficult delivery and whether they could send someone else. That should have told her that nothing good would come of this, without Draco and without her familiar healer, but she hadn’t wanted to inconvenience anyone so she had agreed.

And now she was sitting in the light colored rocking chair in her child’s nursery, staring at the beautifully crafted crib, wondering how she was going to face her husband whenever he came home. Trying to breathe away the tightness in her stomach she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

She heard when he came in, both into her bedroom and then when he stepped into the nursery. He was always exceptionally quiet, probably with the aid of magic, but she could still always tell. He approached her slowly and quietly and she almost smiled when she felt him kiss her forehead. He startled audibly when she reached a hand for him blindly.

“You should go to bed, Ruth,” he told her quietly and when she opened her eyes, she was looking down at her with caring concern. “Rocking chairs aren’t good places to sleep.”

“Probably going to fall asleep in this thing quite a few times when-” She stopped herself for a moment. “When the baby is here.”

“Yes, well, until then you need to get all the good sleep that you can,” he replied stubbornly and she almost smiled. “I thought about what you said.”

She raised her eyebrows. “What in particular did I say? Because I think I said quite a few things to you lately.” She did smile when he rolled his eyes at her. He was tired, she could see that, but he was here, and she was glad about that. In some way.

“About naming our son.”

It felt like the breath got stuck in her throat for a moment before she was able to respond. “I remember.”

“You were right,” he told her freely, starting to wander the room like she knew him to do often. He liked moving when he was talking which was just as well that they could now go on little walks around the conservatory together. “There are family traditions I don’t want to carry on for a number of reasons but I shouldn’t reject all of them just because of who carried them.”

Ruth nodded slowly.

“I’ve thought of a few names, if you don’t mind. We can use them as second names.” He turned to her and she tried to look open and encouraging although the tightness in her stomach was not easing at all with this choice of topic.

“What are they?”

“There aren’t many constellations left that I feel are fairly neutral to use as a given name,” he explained, continuing his pacing. “There are a few that have been repeated over the generations, like Cygnus, Sirius, Phineas, Orion, and surely nearly any vaguely usable constellation or star has been used in some branch of the Black family tree. However, these are ones that I couldn’t find many or any predecessors of.”

On any other day Ruth would have been so happy to hear that, would have been so interested to listen to his thought process, reveling in the fact that he was sharing it with her. But today it just made a lump tighten her throat.

“One would be Caelum which means ‘sky’ or ‘the heavens’ which could be said to be a little pretentious because instead of just taking a star or a constellation, we’ll just take the whole of it all.” He shot her a quick grin that told her he liked that idea though. “The other is Scorpius, the constellation for the zodiac sign, symbolizing a scorpion.” He looked at her, waiting for a response.

“I think I like Caelum better,” she answered after a few moments, very softly.

“So do I.” He stood still then, taller than the moment before, pleased with it all. “You really need to go to bed, Ruth,” he said then, eyeing her with concern.

“I suppose I shall,” she sighed, awkwardly lifting herself from the rocking chair. Everything was just so much more cumbersome when you had a literal watermelon attached to your middle. He was there immediately, of course, helping her and leading her over into her bedroom.

“How was your appointment with the healer today? Neesy told me it wasn’t the regular one?”

Ruth was glad that her back was to her husband as she closed her eyes for a moment and gathered herself. “Tied up in a difficult delivery, they said. The appointment went fine, everything as it should be.” Except one thing.

“Good.”

Yes, good. Wonderful, actually. They were expecting a very healthy baby within the next few weeks and that should have filled her with excitement, or anticipation, or even with a bout of nerves regarding the birth itself, but not with dread.

They both climbed into their respective beds not much later and Ruth  lay on her side facing away from Draco, looking out through the small sliver she had left open in the curtains. It was too dark outside to see much but she knew what was beyond the window and that was enough.

Trying not to lose herself in the iron fist that seemed to have taken hold of her insides since the appointment she lay there, hands on her belly, cradling her child, thinking ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry’ over and over again.

~*~*~*~


	25. A daughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends, the last two days have been an unholy level of productive. I wrote 11.5k of a three part story (which is unheard of, as you probably know I canNOT write short stories so I dunno how that happened at all) plus 2k to finish this chapter so yeah...  
<strike>Also I have a feeling this story will stay under 30 chapters because we are beginning to wrap up which means many Revelations (tm) but also, you know, an end. So like... :) :(</strike> edit: I have now also written the next chapter which will be the last one :'(  
anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and I'd love to hear from you in the comments!

~*~*~*~

He was quiet. Absolutely quiet. Silent. He didn’t say a single word. He just stared down at the bundle in his arms without saying a single word and without a discernible expression on his face.

The last hours had been hard and strenuous, laborious one might even say considering that that was what she had gone through in the last fifteen or so hours – labor. She had given birth maybe an hour, or two?, ago and now her husband, the father of her child, was holding the baby for the first time, and not saying a single thing.

He hadn’t been allowed in during the birth, something that she hadn’t thought of to request before because it had seemed so obvious and natural for him to be there, but apparently not. Apparently fathers weren’t welcome in the room when mothers were giving birth and somehow Ruth hadn’t had the strength nor confidence to ask for it as the contractions were already ravaging her body. She had had Narcissa who had been massively helpful and an experienced and mostly kind midwife and healer but now that Draco was in the room, after the fact, after everything was finished and done with and they had cleaned her up and nothing looked like the battle zone it had been anymore, she found herself wishing that he had been by her side the whole time.

Maybe it hadn’t been the best thing that the first thing out of her mouth after he came in had been ‘I’m sorry’. He had looked startled and surprised by that, approaching the bed where she was lying cautiously and slowly.

Sweet as he was he had immediately asked if she was well, and then if the baby was as well. They were. They were both as well as they could be just after birth. Everything the midwife and the healer had predicted, that she would birth a healthy baby, had come true.

And then she had said it.

“She is well.”

He didn’t seem to notice as he came around the bed and nearly sat on the edge of it. “And I am well also, so all is well,” he said, almost smiling.

He reached to touch her then, either of them, she didn’t know whom, and she pulled back, just a tiny bit but enough for him to notice. All was well. Until he realized, she was sure. Until he realized that… She cradled her daughter closer to herself.

“What are you apologizing for?” he wanted to know and she closed her eyes for a moment.

She wouldn’t say it, she knew that. She couldn’t outright say, explain, that she was apologizing for not giving him what he had wanted, for not fulfilling the second half of why he had married her at all. A wife and an heir. She couldn’t say that she had known for weeks, that she had played through each and every scenario for what might happen after birth, after he found out.

The question stood in the room for long moments, without answer, until he seemed to disregard it, reaching out towards her again. “Can I…?” His eyes were trained on the bundle in her arms and she knew she couldn’t deny him this.

She nodded and leaned up a little, very carefully transferring the baby into his arms. “Here is your daughter,” she said quietly, watching his face closely as he straightened up, looking down at the tiny human he was now holding.

And then he didn’t say anything. For a long time. He stayed completely silent while he held his daughter for the first time, staring down at her with an unreadable expression.

Then all of a sudden he leaned down, swiftly but cautiously depositing the infant back into Ruth’s arms. “Take her,” he said tightly and half a moment after she had taken hold of their daughter, he was out of the room, the door shutting behind him with a loud noise.

“I’m so sorry,” Ruth choked out, closing her eyes against the tears that fell anyway, and cradled her daughter under her chin. “I’m so sorry.”

~*~*~*~

Time progressed somehow quickly and slowly at the same time after the birth. Suddenly there was this tiny human that slept almost the whole day but in such installments that Ruth didn’t get much of the same herself between feeding her daughter and trying to keep herself going. Neesy, Nibly and Narcissa were immensely helpful with everything but they couldn’t mask the blatant absence of the person that should, above all others, have been there.

After the first time Draco had held his daughter, he only made scarce appearances. He was there every day, vaguely, Ruth kind of lost her sense of time due to lack of sleep and the jumbled sleep pattern so she wasn’t entirely sure but it felt like he popped in just for a moment every day. He never stayed long, he never asked to hold his daughter again and he wouldn’t look Ruth in the eye.

The only moment where she got a reaction from him was when she asked him about naming their daughter.

“Did you think of a celestial name for her?” she asked him, peering under the cloth she had thrown over her shoulder to check that her daughter had latched correctly. He had walked in to her nursing the day before (night before? Sometime before) and seemed just as uncomfortable with it when everything was covered up as he had been when everything had been out in the open. She couldn’t help but feel that he was just uncomfortable with both of them, no matter what they did or didn’t do.

He looked like a deer caught in headlights, then slowly shook his head. “I didn’t… Only for a boy,” he mumbled sheepishly and she nodded. “We have to give her a name soon, don’t we?” He sounded like that had just occurred to him, six days after his daughter was born.

“I…” She looked from her daughter up at her husband. “I had an idea, if you don’t mind.”

“No, of course,” he said eagerly.

“I thought we could call her Claire, like Clair de lune,” she said quietly, watching his face for a reaction. She got a glimpse of surprise before it went again. “But her given name could be Clarissa, after your mother.”

He stared at her for a moment, then nodded. “That sounds great.” His voice sounded like anything but.

“Do you want to choose her middle name, since I chose the first?”

“...alright,” he agreed but said nothing else, nothing about what middle name he might choose for the daughter he didn’t want.

Ruth chastised herself for that thought, however true it may have been. Claire may not have been what Draco had expected but she was still his daughter and she was going to do a damn and let him cast her aside for being a girl.

“I have to go,” he said not long after and disappeared again.

Ruth let out a deep sigh and lifted Claire to her shoulder to pat her tiny back for a burp. “We’ll figure this out, Claire, I promise,” she whispered to the baby and inhaled that sweet baby smell deeply. Her heart flowed over with love for this tiny being and she couldn’t imagine how it couldn’t be the same for Draco, but it wasn’t and she had to accept that.

~*~*~*~

“She’s so beautiful,” Hannah whispered, in awe of the armful of person she was carrying around the nursery while Claire slept. “And so tiny!”

Ruth smiled softly and nodded. “Tiny fingers, tiny toes, tiny nose, tiny ears. A mini-human.”

“And she smells so good.” Hannah took a deep whiff.

“Maybe you should go into pediatrics after all,” Ruth commented with a soft smile.

“Maybe I should.” Hannah stopped still when Claire moved a little in her arms but she was only making herself more comfortable.

“I really don’t know why she won’t sleep in her bed anymore. She slept fine there at the beginning and now she won’t go to sleep anymore if someone’s not holding her.” Ruth sighed and leaned back into the sofa tiredly. “Then at night there’s not a single blip.” Claire was almost three months old now and Ruth could feel herself getting better with more regular night sleep since a few weeks. But it was odd, three months old babies weren’t supposed to sleep through the night yet, were they?

“Not even for a feed?” Hannah frowned. “That’s strange. Have you asked your healer?”

“I asked Narcissa and she said some babies settle into a routine more easily than others.” Ruth still found that advice doubtful and Hannah’s face said the same.

“Maybe you’re just really special, Miss Claire,” Hannah cooed at the girl in her arms and took up pacing the room, gently rocking her goddaughter in her arms.

The conversation stuck in Ruth’s mind for the rest of the day and maybe it was the reason why she woke in the middle of the night although she hadn’t in the last few weeks.

Her bedroom was dark and quiet, and she snuggled into her pillow with relief. Claire was sleeping deeply from the sounds of it and she could get back to that as well.

Only she didn’t drift back off right away, although she was tired enough for it. There was something that wouldn’t let her, something off, but she couldn’t figure out what it was with her sleep addled brain.

Then she realized what it was.

It was quiet. Too quiet. There were no sounds, not one.

She sat up abruptly, pulling her wand from under her pillow. She’d needed it more since the birth, motherhood seemed to be making her wandless magic both stronger as well as wonky so using the wand was definitely safer at the moment.

“Finite!” she called out quietly but firmly and there they were. The faint but ever present sounds and noises the house itself made.

“Lumos!” she said next, illuminating her bedroom brightly.

And then her heart stopped.

Claire’s crib was empty.

“Nibly! Neesy!”

The two elves appeared in her room a few moments later, looking just as bleary and sleepy as she had felt before she’d realized.

“Where is Claire?!” she demanded to know, digging through the bedding in Claire’s crib as though that would provide any clues.

“Missy Claire is not with Miss Ruthie?” Nibly asked hesitantly, exchanging a look with the other elf.

“No!” Ruth ran a hand through her tousled hair, tearing at it somewhat. “I woke up and there was a silencing spell on my bed and she wasn’t in her crib!”

“A silencing spell on your bed?” Narcissa appeared in the door as well, hair gathered artfully in her nape for sleep, sleep clothes covered by a dark green dressing gown. “She’s not there,” she whispered in horror, coming to Ruth’s side to look into the crib as well. “Pospy!”

Her personal elf appeared within the blink of an eye, looking like she might have woken with Nibly and Neesy as she was much better put together than all of them. “Mistress?”

“Claire has disappeared,” Narcissa told the elf, her hand squeezing Ruth’s tightly. “I need to know who entered and exited the estate tonight as well as this room.”

Pospy closed her eyes for a moment but opened them quickly. “Nobody entered or exited the estate, Mistress. And only those present as well as Master Draco have entered this room tonight.”

“Draco?” Ruth frowned at the elf in confusion. “But Draco hasn’t visited in days.”

She was focused on the elf and missed the way Narcissa’s lips crinkled in distaste at that. Her son’s absence from his daughter’s life was a large area of contention between them but he would not discuss anything about it with her, or anyone. She had tried. It was like talking to a wall.

“Get Draco,” Narcissa ordered but Pospy didn’t pop away. “I said-”

“Mistress,” Neesy said quietly and gestured to the door connecting Ruth’s bedroom with Claire’s nursery.

Ruth stared at her elf for a moment then rushed forward and opened the door.

And there he was. There she was. Cradled in her father’s arms while he paced the room.

Until he noticed her in the door that was, he stood still then.

“What are you-” Narcissa set off but Ruth cut her mother-in-law off, closing the door behind herself in her face, no matter how rude. She felt several wards fall back into place then.

The expression on Draco’s face spoke of guilt and bad conscience, and there was a hint of fear that made her heart twist more than anything else. He extended his arms towards her, offering her Claire, but she shook her head and went over to sit in the rocking chair.

“So you’re why she won’t go to sleep without someone carrying her anymore,” she said quietly, taking in the picture she had longed to see for three months. Her husband holding his daughter. Expertly so, lovingly so.

“I… yes,” he admitted sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I should-”

She held up her hand and leaned her head back, suddenly feeling even more tired. “We’ll get to that later. What I want to know is why.” Claire shifted slightly in her father’s arms and he adjusted his hold accordingly. Like someone who had done the same many, many times before. So many times he might not even have noticed he was doing it. “Why haven’t you held your daughter when I was there too? Why haven’t you looked me in the eyes since she was born? Why haven’t you said so much as five words to me in weeks?”

Draco swallowed visibly, looking even guiltier and more uncomfortable by the moment.

“Do you resent me that much? That you can’t even look at me? That you won’t be in a room with me? That you won’t hold your daughter? Only you do, apparently.” She stared at Claire in his arms and felt overcome with a wave of bottomless hopelessness and sadness.

“Resent you?” he asked, completely dumbfounded. “I don’t resent you at all. I-” He broke off, the words not coming over his lips yet. “Why would I resent you?” He was confused.

“Because I didn’t give you the heir you wanted,” she whispered, now the one feeling guilty. She had known for weeks before Claire was born and hadn’t told him, too scared of what might happen, what he might do if he knew. But if their daughter was born, if Narcissa saw her, and the healer and the midwife, he couldn’t-

“I am holding my heir,” he stated very clearly, frowning.

“But she’s a girl.”

“So she is, and?”

“You always spoke of a son,” she whispered even more quietly, looking anywhere but him. “You wanted a son.”

There was a moment of silence then he moved into her field of vision without giving her the chance of looking away anymore as he came so close he was directly in front of her.

“I wanted a child,” he told her, laying the sleeping Claire onto her lap so he could take her hands. “I _have_ a child. I _have_ an heir.”

Ruth stared down at their joined hands, at the ring that was still on his finger. She hadn’t been sure if he still wore it, his hands had been in his pockets or behind his back every time she had seen him since the birth.

“But…” She looked up at him, such a lost and confused expression on her face that he wanted to sweep her into his arms and protect her from the world. “Then why?” She lifted her hand and touched his stubbly cheek. He held it to his face for a few moments, closing his eyes. “Why did you stay away, Draco?”

“When I first held her, I got so angry,” he pushed out finally and she was shocked to hear the bitterness in his voice. “I got scared of what I might do so I gave her back to you and left the room.”

“Angry at her? At me?”

His eyes snapped open and the look from his gray eyes bore right into hers. “Never angry at you, or at her, Ruth,” he assured her earnestly. “Never.”

“I don’t understand, Draco,” she said quietly, shaking her head.

“When I held her, I couldn’t-” He fumbled for words. “When I held her for the first time, and saw her little face and tiny hands and nose and lips and everything, I… I loved her instantly. More than my own life. I would do anything for her, to make sure she is safe and happy.” He looked down at their daughter between them and swallowed again. “I love her, and you.” He met her eyes shyly and for a moment she didn’t breathe. “I love you.”

Mindful of the sleeping baby between them Ruth reached for him, drawing him into her arms and burying her face at his shoulder. “And I love you,” she whispered and felt the shudder that went through him at that.

“You do?” He sounded so hesitant, so disbelieving, that it broke her heart.

“I do,” she confirmed simply. “I’ve known for a while but I didn’t want to spook you and then Claire…”

He nodded in understanding.

“Will you tell me tomorrow?” she asked, pulling back as Claire was fidgeting in her sleep at being squashed between her parents. “Why you got so angry and why you stayed away?”

He nodded again and carefully picked Claire up, cradling her against his chest and kissing her little head softly.

“Did you even sleep the last weeks?” He had dark circles under his eyes that seemed to have intensified as hers receded. How had she not noticed that? But she had been focused on other things, namely their daughter.

“I’ve been known to fall asleep over my desk a few times lately,” he admitted sheepishly and she chuckled at that.

“And did you feed her at night?” The night feeds were the ones that had worried her the most, Claire sleeping through the night had seemed like a surprising stroke of luck too good to be true if she was missing her night meals because of it. But the healer had confirmed that Claire was growing very well and was on track for everything, including weight.

“I made Nibly show me how to prepare bottles for her.”

Ruth pursed her lips. “And you ordered her to keep it secret afterwards,” she added.

He nodded.

“We will be talking about that but first we are going to sleep,” she decided and opened the door to her bedroom slowly, hoping to find what she did – her bedroom empty of anyone else.

“Talking about what?” Draco inquired, following with Claire. He stood by the bed, looking a little like he was feeling out of place as Claire’s crib had replaced his cot. Ruth pulled back the bedding and gestured towards the bed.

“About the elves and their freedom/freedoms,” she told him. “Get in.”

He opened his mouth to protest but then did what she had told him. He got onto the mattress carefully and scooted back to the other end, gently holding Claire to his chest as he was half reclining against the headboard. They were both very aware that it was the first time he was in her bed. Not on her bed, he had been on it a few times, but in it.

“I’d been wondering when you were going to get to that,” he said with a little grin as she got in as well. “They’ve grown in confidence since you’ve taught them to read your children’s books. Quite fanciful ideas in those children’s books as you call them.”

“What fanciful ideas would that be? That any being should be treated with respect and dignity?” she gave back quite sharply but he just smiled. “Now give her here.” She leaned back against the headboard as well and took the squirming baby to nurse her. “Don’t feed her formula anymore, it makes my milk recede. I could pump some so you can give her a bottle.”

He blinked at her owlishly. “Pump… your milk?”

Ruth chuckled and nodded for him to scoot closer. “This works too,” she whispered as he pressed up to her side, both of them watching their daughter nurse.

“Yes, this works fine,” he whispered back, dropping a kiss to her shoulder.

~*~*~*~


	26. The letter and the rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the last chapter. I can't really describe how I feel about that... I'm kind of awed that I managed to finish this story (in less than 30 chapters too, when I started I thought I'd exceed 60 easily ha!), I'm sad that it is finished because that means putting to rest a beloved story and well loved characters, I'm relieved I am finished because it was a lot of work, and and and...  
I wrote the letter that is in the beginning of this chapter about three months ago, knowing that it would probably be in a Revelation Chapter (where Draco's motives become clear). I didn't think that chapter would be the last chapter though. But was we already know from the Five Chapter Arch, this story does what it wants to, I just write it ^^  
I hope you enjoy this chapter and that you enjoyed this story. I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments! Hope to see you soon, maybe on my other stories (although the active ones are not in the HP fandom, but new HP ones are coming up, I promise!)?
> 
> P.S. if you liked the story, you might want to subscribe to the series page for it as I can't quite let go of Ruth and Draco just yet and have several ideas still in my head that didn't fit (especially future ones after this story's end).

~*~*~*~

They didn’t get to a calm moment to talk until Claire was down for her afternoon nap and even then there wasn’t a whole lot of talking involved at first. At least that seemed to be Draco’s plan as he handed her a roll of parchment then sat down across of her instead of next to her. Ruth shot him a questioning look but his face was expressionless again, a protective front, she knew. So she unrolled the parchment

_Father,_

She read the single word, and stopped. No one had ever really mentioned Lucius Malfoy, nor had anyone ever talked about him. He was like a ghost, hanging in the air of the house where he had lived and where he had condoned unspeakable things, one whose presence everyone ignored. This letter was addressed to him, in Draco’s handwriting.

She looked across at her husband again but he was carefully looking somewhere else, eyes trained on the wall somewhere behind her. His hands were clasped in his lap and he was trying to look a stoic picture of calmness but he was fidgeting nervously, she could tell. So she read on.

_Father,_

_I am writing to you for the first and last time to inform you that I have become a father very recently. Amidst this thoroughly joyous event, I wish to assure you that you will never set sight onto nor share presence with your grandchild as well as my wife and any further children should I be so fortunate to be gifted with them._

She gulped at the first paragraph alone, eyes flitting to the date at the top right. He had written this a few days after Claire’s birth.

_It has taken me the better part of six years to put into words and write what I could not until my child was laid into my arms for the first time. It was in that moment that I recognized that our ways are irreconcilable. _

_Whilst Mother is adamant that you have always wanted the best for me, your son, I cannot agree. A portion of your actions and decisions can be attributed to your upbringing, as rings true for myself. Another portion may be born from a desire to partake in building a so called ‘better’ world for your family. However amongst others, pride, arrogance, greed, a profound craving for power and most of all prejudice were your biggest motivation._

_As I’m sure you have been informed somehow, my wife is the daughter of Muggle-born parents and while I have to face the reality that our marriage was concerted by none other than myself, I find myself in the lucky position to have garnered a partner in life who I am absolutely certain is and will be fundamental in rectifying that which the Malfoy family has fallen guilty of. With this child, I have ensured that future generations of Malfoys will never again be that which you have coveted your entire life – ‘pureblooded’. It is due to _ _my wife_ _ that our family will prosper and grow in things more important than wealth and influence. I do not doubt that you have loved my mother in some capacity but you were never ready to learn from her or take her council which is a mistake I will not continue._

_As I have already stated, when I held my child for the first time I knew that our paths would not reunite. Experiencing the bond only a parent can form with their child, I find myself even more disgusted and alienated by your claims that your actions were motivated by your love for me. I too am guilty of falling into the trap of prejudice and my upbringing but holding my child now, I cannot fathom how you could use me as a reason for all the despicable things you have partaken in. Actions for which, may I remind you, you have not expressed even a modicum of remorse. The latter being why I will never allow you to taint the sanctity of my family._

At some point while reading the letter, tears had formed in Ruth’s eyes and a few splashed onto the parchment as she went on. The ink didn’t blur though, a testament to the quality of the ink Draco chose to write with.

She looked up again and this time found him looking at her, averting his gaze quickly when he noticed. But she waited, until his eyes found their way back to her, then she nodded at him to sit beside her. He hesitated for a long moment but when she did it again, he came.

He sat next to her but there was more than two hands’ width space between them so she reached over and tugged on his knee. He scooted over and only when their thighs where pressed together, she was content. She reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly in hers before she read the last paragraph, never letting go.

_I will continue my life fulfilled with the impossible task of undoing some of the wrong the Malfoy family has inflicted but most of all bettering myself so that my child can learn that being wrong is only a fault as long as you are unwilling to admit it and refuse to change. I face the future with gratitude that my last action inspired by what I learned from you has brought me to a place in life where I can freely be myself and am embraced for all that I am._

_For a while I considered changing our family motto but my wife has convinced me that purity is still a worthwhile pursuit and can conquer all. The new and future generations of Malfoys will no longer be garnering purity of the blood, however, but purity of the heart. After all, it is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye._

_Your son,_

_Draco_

The words swam in front of her eyes as she read the last sentence and choked down a sob. She was probably cutting off the blood flow in his hand, holding it so tightly, but she couldn’t find it in herself to let go. She read the letter again, reread certain sentences over and over until it felt like she would know them by heart for all eternity. Only then did she lower the parchment and turn to look at him.

“I understand if you…” He trailed off, avoiding her eyes again.

“If I what?” she asked emotionally.

“Now you know why.”

Ruth stared at him. “Why you got angry when you held Claire for the first time?”

“Why I married you.”

“Draco.” She reached over to turn his face towards her so he would look at her. “I’ve known why you married me since the first time you called me the daughter of Muggle-borns.”

His mouth opened but nothing came out.

“You made such a point to stress it, in a respectful way somehow, but you did. I knew exactly why you picked me before I married you.”

“You knew?” He was incredulous. “And you still married me? Even though you knew I only picked you because of your parents, so I could destroy my bloodline, so none of this,” he gestured around the room, “could ever happen again? And you still married me?”

She nodded slowly.

“Why?!”

She swallowed and pressed her lips together for a moment. “Because just as much as you were using me, I was using you too, Draco. You’re rich, really rich, even after everything. I knew I wouldn’t have to work anymore, I wasn’t sure if you’d let me get therapy or let me see healers as I wanted, but I knew that you’d be able to take care of me financially, and of my child. You gave me the prospect of provision and a family.”

His mouth opened and closed several times.

“I think we played both of ourselves,” she helped him with a smile slowly forming on her lips.

He let out a snort. “We have.”

She smiled at him for a moment and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “We also got very lucky.”

“The luckiest,” he whispered back, so gently it made the lump grow in her throat again. “How on earth I set out only to find a wife to destroy my pureblood bloodline with but found the love of my life, I’ll never know.”

Ruth smiled brightly at that and he couldn’t help but smile back. “I slithered in the Hufflepuff way,” she grinned widely.

Draco couldn’t help but laugh. “That you did, darling.”

For a few moments they sat in silence.

“I understand now why you couldn’t hold her,” she told him gently and stroked his cheek with her thumb.

He closed his eyes for a moment. “I held her and I was overcome with love for her. I would do anything for her to be safe and happy. Then I remembered that my father always told me he was doing this to make sure I had a brighter future and I just…” He opened his eyes and Ruth’s heart hurt at the hatred and revulsion she saw in his eyes. “Everything I wrote in the letter is true. He will never meet you or Claire, or even see you, or come near you. He can rot in Azkaban until he dies for all I care but I will not allow him to taint this family again. He has done enough.”

Ruth nodded softly. “And yet you deserve forgiveness.”

“I don’t deserve forgiveness,” he spat out. “I was just as bad as him, I just didn’t have the guts or the position, but I was the same.” He pulled her hand off his cheek with a careful but very definite movement. “I don’t deserve forgiveness, or your love, or happiness.”

Ruth stared at him and she wanted to cry but she knew that if she did, he would make it all about her. That was what he had been doing in the past year, hadn’t he? He had made it all about her. Everything, every action, had been focused on her and while she had needed it, and while it had been good for her, and for him too to some extent, she now saw an aspect to it she hadn’t considered before.

From the moment he had proposed to her, he had focused on her. Neesy, the rooms, the healers, bringing electricity and TV to the manor, the ball, the piano, the nursery, the conservatory, the always bright lights no matter which corridor she took, the list was endless. She had been the focal point of everything, even in his absences. And if focus was on her, it was away from him. He had thrown all his might, all his money, all his resources, into helping her. Suddenly she remembered how he had told her that Daisy would live in the Norrington-Longbottom House and how long had been between her telling him about Daisy and that moment. Months. Months where he had been locked away into his study, or going on trips every other week, trips he had returned from pale and exhausted and… He had focused on her, and away from himself. Because he believed he didn’t deserve it.

“I didn’t speak at your trial,” came out of her mouth before her thought was truly finished.

“I know,” he responded slowly, puzzled as to what that had to do with anything.

“I should have,” she went on, slowly finding her footing.

“Ruth.” He shook his head. “I understand why you didn-”

“I understand why I didn’t too,” she cut him off. “But that doesn’t make it right. I should have spoken for you, but I didn’t. I knew it would have been the right thing to do, but I didn’t. You might say now that I wasn’t in a position to do so, that I was depressed, and traumatized, and all those things. They are true, but I could have found a way to speak even despite that. But I didn’t.”

He pressed his lips together in the way he always did when he had something to say but was keeping himself from it because she wasn’t finished. He knew her so well and she swallowed down a flash of guilt that she couldn’t say the same about him, because she hadn’t noticed how focused he was on her, and she wasn’t on him. It was nobody’s fault, nobody to blame, she reminded herself. It was what it was.

“I’ve felt guilty about that ever since I read in the papers about your sentence.”

“You don’t have to-” He quietened at a look from her.

“I know that this is not the scale of things you are talking about, Draco,” she said gently. “I know that what you feel guilty about is not a small puzzle piece in a trial, or maybe it is. You were caught between a rock and a hard place with lifelong indoctrination and not many options. You did things you would rather undo, you feel guilty about them and you hate yourself for them, but they are done. You can’t take them back. I can’t take back that I didn’t speak for you at the trial. We can’t change the past. But we can do better in our present and change the future in that way.”

The tension in his jaw faded but instead his shoulders drooped then. “I shouldn’t even have the future I have,” he shook his head, not meeting her eyes.

“And why not?”

He looked up, his eyes hardening again. “Because I don’t deserve this life, any life, when so many others…” He shook his head again.

“You cannot carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone, Draco Malfoy,” she told him very firmly and he gaped at her. “Harry has been trying to do this, Hermione has been trying to do this, you are trying to do this, but it does not work this way. You are responsible for your own actions and your own actions alone. You are not responsible for what your father did, or Dolohov, or your aunt, or Voldemort himself. That is not your cross to carry. Your cross to carry is what you did, what you are doing now, and what you will do in the future.”

He swallowed harshly at her unyielding tone, a tone that was very uncharacteristic for Ruth.

“You will be reminded of what you did for the rest of your life, I suppose. But if you cannot live in the past, you must live in the present. And in the present you are like anyone else who has done things they regret, who have scars from the life they have lived, who need to unlearn that which their parents instilled in them. A human being desiring and deserving of love and kindness and forgiveness and happiness.” Her penetrating stare dared him to oppose her, dared him to speak up against what she had just said, but he didn’t. “And I will remind you of this as many times as you need to hear it,” she tacked on, in that familiar, gentle tone she often had with him.

“I don’t deserve you,” he sighed deeply but took her hand again and kissed her knuckles.

“I don’t deserve you either but here we are, stuck together.” She pulled his hand over to her and placed a kiss on his knuckles as well.

“You deserve forgiveness, Draco,” she repeated softly, her eyes on him just as keenly as moments before but in a way that always made him think she was wise beyond her years in some ways.

“The things I have done are unforgivable, Ruth,” he replied quietly, sadly.

“I don’t mean you yourself. I mean your father.”

“I deserve forgiveness from my father? For what?!” He looked bewildered, and upset, at that prospect.

“The other way around,” she said, knowing it was likely to set him off again.

“You want me to forgive my father?!” he exclaimed, infuriated.

“I want you to be happy, Draco,” she told him softly. “And holding onto hatred doesn’t make one happy. Maybe he doesn’t deserve forgiveness, but you do. Forgiveness is not for him, it is not absolution of what he has done, it is so you can let it go. Right now it is a weight on your shoulders that you are still carrying, and that is okay. It isn’t easy to forgive, it isn’t easy to let go. But you need to do it so the weight doesn’t crush you.”

Draco stared at her and she could tell that she had reached something within him but that he wasn’t ready yet. And that was okay. He had come so far already, they had come so far, and they would go even further, together.

“I’m proud of you.”

The breath seemed to get stuck in his throat. “You’re proud of me?” he croaked.

Ruth nodded.

“How could you be proud of me, after everything I’ve done? I was in Azkaban for five years for everything I’ve done and afterwards I went right on scheming my way into marr-”

“I’m proud of you because you recognized that you were wrong and maybe we can debate whether you were really ready to admit it but you were definitely ready to do something about it. You might have gone really strong on the changing things aspect but you did something, you took action. By whatever means you were able to see at the time, you decided to change your future and your family.”

“I love you, Ruth, and I love Claire, with everything I have,” he desperately tried to assure her. “You have to believe that. I may have chosen you because of your parents and because of the ridiculous favor I could hold over your head but I’ve fallen in love with you, and our daughter, and with our family.”

“I believe you.” She was already holding one of his hands, his right, but she reached over for the other one as well, the one where he was wearing her ring. She lifted it to her lips and kissed his knuckle above the ring, then held his hand to her chest, to her heart.

He released a deep, deep breath. “I have a lot to learn from you.”

She smiled. “I have a lot to learn from you too. And we have a lot to learn in general. Neither of us finished school.”

He snorted a laugh at that. “Disgraceful.”

“Absolutely,” she chuckled. “Will you play piano with me now?”

He glanced over to the piano and nodded. “What are we playing?”

“What are we playing!” she huffed at him, pulling him to the instrument. “Our daughter’s lullaby of course!”

~*~*~*~

Everything felt different this year when she was getting ready for the ball. It was different right from before the day had even started, because she woke up with Draco in her bed, pressed closely against her back, and with Claire sleeping soundly in front of her.

It was also different because these days it was difficult to get her and Draco separately and no matter how much Neesy hemmed and hawed, they got ready in her quarters, together. Draco had also chosen the dress this time, presenting her with it and another piece of parchment.

She hadn’t realized she had never asked him what middle name he had chosen for Claire until he handed her the birth certificate but when she saw it, she got quite mad at him.

“You couldn’t have shown me this before Neesy did my hair and make-up that I’m going to ruin now because you picked the single most perfect middle name for our daughter and I hate you for it?” she grumbled at him, blinking rapidly to keep her tears at bay.

_Clarissa Rose Malfoy_

The dress he had brought her had a full skirt, an embroidered bodice and additional embroidery scattered around the hems of tulle overlays. It was deep red, like the roses he had given her every morning since she’d found him with their daughter in the nursery, and the embroidery was of the same flowers as well.

“Because you are my rose,” he said quietly, taking her hand. “Because you’ve taught me that what matters is not what I see with my eyes, but with my heart. Because you’re my friend, and my wife. Because I asked you for a favor and you fulfilled it but in a way that makes both of us favored now.”

Ruth smiled at him tearily and pulled him in for a kiss, ignoring that Neesy was tutting disapprovingly in the background. “Do you know what my names mean?”

“Ruth-Anne? No.” He looked horrified for a moment that he had never learned their meaning.

“Ruth is from Hebrew and means friend. And Anne is from Hebrew as well and means favor and grace.”

He stared at her speechlessly.

“My mother taught me the meaning of them when I was little but I forgot about them until you mentioned it just now.”

“My friend and my favor,” he whispered emotionally and kissed her again. In the background Neesy sighed deeply and set about tidying up the hair things she had used on Ruth.

“My treasure protecting dragon,” she whispered back cheekily but he just laughed.

“You really are my treasure.” He hugged her around the middle possessively.

“If you want to make it for the opening dance with me, I’m afraid you’ll have to let go promptly before Neesy hexes you,” she told him, seeing the grumpy expression on the elf’s face.

Draco pursed his lips in distaste and released her.

Ruth gripped her husband’s arm nervously as they descended the grand staircase together once more but it was more from having kissed Claire good night and leaving her in Nibly’s capable hands but  _leaving her _ for the night _._

At the bottom were gathered their friends who greeted them all warmly and then everyone went inside so that Draco and Ruth could open the ball. He led her right into the middle like he had a year ago but this time she did not feel nervous, or unprepared, or taken by surprise by the music that began to play then. This time with a proper harp in the beginning and a real ensemble playing the music divinely.

He led her into the Waltz of the Flowers as seamlessly as he always did and smiled back when she smiled at him. She had asked if he would mind twirling her a little less fiercely tonight as she didn’t quite feel at home in her body again after the birth and he truly did twirl her around the dance floor very gently. He couldn’t, however, resist following the prompts given by the music, leading her into plenty twists and turns as the music demanded.

After a very elaborate ending to their opening dance, Draco reeled his wife back in and held her breathless but beaming self in his arms, dipping her in on the last count and – scandalous – kissing her soundly. Around them their guests applauded, there was whistling and cheering that undoubtedly came from their friends, but it didn’t matter. When he brought her back up, she looped one arm around his neck and kissed him again, love and joy shining in her brown eyes and that was all that mattered.

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The funny thing about Ruth-Anne's name is that I didn't choose it for the meanings at all. I found a singer I like called [Ruth-Anne](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ruth-Anne_Cunningham) (who is also a songwriter and has co-written a number of amazing and successful songs like JoJo's "Too Little Too Late", Britney Spears' "Work Bitch", Niall Horan's "Slow Hands" and "Nice To Meet Ya" as well as several One Direction and MANY other songs) and loved the name so I decided to use it. The storyline developed on its own and only later I looked up the meaning of Ruth and Anne which then, of course, blew my mind because they couldn't be much more fitting for the character of Ruth-Anne!  
A wonderful song by Ruth-Anne (the singer and songwriter) that fits quite well for Draco and Ruth is one called [The Vow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IcN6KCQwnPg). A beautiful, beautiful song that I listened to many times, especially during the flashback scenes in the Five Chapter Arch.


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